Daughter of the Potions Master II
by Rowanera
Summary: Rowan and George are back right where they left off. When the truth comes out about who she really is and things spiral out of their control, can Rowan keep up appearances and keep it together? Link to the first installment: /s/13325578/1/Daughter-of-the-Potions-Master
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"What are you doing here?" Rowan stepped out of George's arms and grabbed his hands happily. "Shouldn't you be at the shop?"

"I wanted to pick you up," he grinned and hugged her again, lifting her off the ground. "That's the nice part about being your own boss; I can do whatever I want."

"Are you sure Fred won't fire you? He has plenty of other Weasleys to choose from if he needs help running the shop," she teased.

"If he fires me, I'll fire him back," he chuckled. "Later Lee," he gave him a quick hug and salute before picking up her bags. "Ready to see the shop?" She nodded eagerly and took his arm. She gave Lee a nod goodbye and with a crack, they landed in the center of Diagon Alley.

She took a deep breath and took in the nostalgia; it never got old. Diagon Alley always felt so magical and exciting. The sounds of bustling people and the exchange of money, the smell of fresh food; it just felt like magic. It was easy to pick out the shop; the storefront was brightly decorated with changing colors and movement all through the window display. A sign hanging over the window proudly stated "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes." She grinned.

"You guys have really done it," she said awestruck. It was one thing to hear about it and another to see it with her own eyes. "It looks amazing!" George grinned proudly. "I'm so happy for you and Fred." She felt a surge of pride; these were her boys.

"What are you on about? Be happy for yourself, your ideas are in their too," he scoffed.

"Well yeah, but this," she gestured, "This is your dream. I'm just- I dunno, I guess I'm proud of you lot."

George went pink, "Thanks Ro."

"Now c'mon, I wanna see inside!" She grabbed her things and ran inside.

It looks great in here!" she exclaimed, looking around the shop.

Fred poked his head out from the storeroom, "Keep it down out here, will you?" She only grinned at him. Fred stood back proudly while George, gave her side a small squeeze.

"Hey!" she squealed, hopping away.

He grinned devilishly and swept over, grabbing her hips and pulling her in. She quickly slapped her hands over his to keep them from returning to her sides. He rested his forehead on her and grinned.

"I missed you."

"I missed you too."

Fred began making loud retching noises behind them.

"Knock it off you prat," George said, sending a rude gesture in Fred's direction before pecking her on the lips.

She grinned, "So, do I get a tour?"

"Of course," George said, putting on a formal tone and bowing low.

Laughing, she pulled him along, eager to see the rest of the shop and the flat.

George proudly showed her each section of the store from their "Beginning Pranksters" lineup to the corner of the store labelled, "Hellraisers". There were products in an entirely pink section, from love potions to blemish removers, obviously aimed at the female population. She kept her comments about all the pink to herself and kept moving.

He showed her the new products they had designed or begun ordering since they had been apart. They had been breeding some kind of pastel colored puffballs as well as ordering Instant Darkness Powder from Peru.

She noticed a lot of products were mixed together, no doubt from customers moving them around. There were vanishing hats mixed with the ton-tongue toffees and skiving Snackboxes mixed with the decoy detonators; she would have to help them get organized.

"You guys have been busy," she commended him.

"I had to keep my mind off missing you somehow, didn't I?" he asked teasingly.

Oh shush," she complained, face going red.

I'm serious!" he said, looking offended. "I don't know how I'm going to do it again next year."

She hesitated. she could tell him now, but it technically wasn't set in stone yet. She knew she was just stalling, but she wasn't ready to tell him about her N.E.W.T.s yet.

George must have taken her silence for sadness because he wrapped her in a hug, "Don't worry about it love, we'll make it work."

Stepping back and going on her tiptoes, she pecked him on the lips, "I love you Georgie."

He grinned, "I love you too. C'mon, I'll show you the flat now."

He led her up the narrow staircase that was tucked into the back corner of the shop and blocked off by a small velvet rope. As soon as they reached the top of the stairs she was immediately underwhelmed. While the shop was brightly lit and extravagantly decorated, the flat was a mess. It was lit only by the bit of light that survived the layer of dust on the window. A few half-melted candles were strewn across the floor. The sitting room and kitchen were the same room, marked only by the change from dusty carpet to dusty linoleum. Her mouth would have fallen open but she was a little afraid to breath in the air. Boxes were strewn around, half unpacked. It was obvious the pair of them had been living out of their trunks and boxes for the last two months. Used dishes were stacked on the sparse surfaces available.

"I know it's a bit rough-"

"Rough? It's terrifying. You two have been living here?"

"I mean, we spend most of our time down in shop. We only come up here to sleep and eat," he replied sheepishly.

"George, you guys need to clean up after yourselves and fully unpack for Merlin's sake!" She felt her temper rise; they couldn't have put any effort into the place before she arrived? They'd been here for two months. It certainly wasn't her responsibility to clean up after them.

George seemed to underestimate how annoyed she was; he laughed, "We've been doing alright so far, we're both still alive-"

"I'm not kidding around George. I can't stay here with the flat like this. I'll be back, I'm enlisting a bit of help."

Just before she apparated away, she heard George plead, "Not Mum, she'll kill me!"

"I can't believe you boys; this place is filthy! Now I know why you said you didn't have time to show me the flat, you knew I wouldn't be able to allow you two to live here! You think that just because you're out of the house you don't have to be decent? And expecting Rowan to live here with you this summer, with it in this condition? Inexcusable!"

Mrs. Weasley's tirade seemed never ending. She had wanted help cleaning, not for the twins to get reamed. The two of them were not pleased with her to say the least, but hopefully the flat would be livable by the time they were finished, so they would have to get over it. Ginny stood by, arms crossed, enjoying her brothers' discomfort; some things never change she supposed.

Trying to deflect Molly's anger, Rowan made a suggestion, "Mrs. Weasley, how about you, Ginny, and Fred get started on this place and George and I will go out and pick up some decent furniture and then come back to help?"

Her demeanor changed instantly, "That sounds perfect dear, but George, don't think we're done discussing this!" Quick as a whip, she squelched the look of relief on George's face.

Fred's expression soured at being left behind with his less-than-pleased mother, but she grabbed George by the hand and dragged him down the dusty stairs and into the street.

"I'm sorry I got you two in trouble," she apologized. George shrugged, obviously upset. She sighed, feeling genuinely guilty now. They were grown men; maybe bringing their mum into it wasn't the best idea. But it would get results, so hopefully when all was said and done, they would forgive her.

"Come on," I said, a bit disheartened. They walked to the nearest store and started looking around.

"What do you think of this one?" she pointed to a cushy-looking maroon couch.

"Do you actually want my opinion? Or are you just going to get what you want no matter what I say?" he asked bitterly. She opened her mouth and closed it. He'd never been that openly hostile toward her.

"George-"

"Never mind, I don't care," he muttered, walking away.

"George what's the matter with you?"

"What's the matter with me? Why would you bring Mum after I asked you not to? Fred and I are adults now, we left home for a reason! You can't just tattle on me when I do something you don't like!"

"I know, it was stupid, I'm sorry! I wasn't trying to tattle; I just wanted help! But you've never been like this before, what's wrong?" she felt tears prick her eyes despite her best efforts.

"I thought we were going to be adults when we left home, that's what's wrong!"

By now the whole store was staring; she was so embarrassed that the tears had spilled over. "If you decide you want to act like a normal human being and talk about what's bothering you, I'll be home waiting." She stalked out of the store, embarrassed, angry and hurt, apparating to a familiar house at the end of the road that she hadn't seen in quite some time.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

She had walked around the neighborhood for a few hours and was now idly dragging her feet on a rusty swing set. She wasn't exactly eager to go home and explain to her dad why she wasn't at the flat. It was starting to get dark, so she reluctantly stood and trudged home.

The house was dark, but that didn't mean much; her dad preferred it that way. Walking in the front door, she heard voices in the other room, a vague reminder of her arrival as a child. She was no longer a scared toddler, but she still stepped lightly, unsure of who would be visiting.

Stepping into the sitting room, she was met with a peculiar scene. Her father lounging his armchair while Bellatrix and Narcissa sat tensely on the sofa. Her heart sank further when Narcissa caught her gaze. Bellatrix smirked and Rowan clenched her fist around her wand, resisting the urge to leap on her. Her dad gave her a curt nod; they would both explain to the other later.

She turned on heel and went back the other way, toward the stairs. She hadn't thought it would be possible to bring her mood any lower, but she hadn't expected Narcissa to be in the one place she thought was safe. She let a sigh escape.

"Anything I can get for you Miss Rowan," Wormtail groveled, forever trying to get in her good favor.

"Since when are you so helpful? Piss off Wormtail," she growled impatiently. She stalked down the hall and into her room, resisting the urge to slam the door like an angst-ridden teenager. Flopping on her bed, a cloud of dust rose up. Her dad must not have cleaned since being home. She couldn't bring herself to care.

Coming here had been a horrible idea, it wasn't even a safe place while Narcissa and Bellatrix were here. There was also a part of her that wanted George to come after her and apologize; that had been the point of leaving. But there was no way he would come here, even if he was sorry.

She wasn't sure how long it had been but her stomach gave a long growl. She heaved herself off the bed with a sigh. She wasn't sure if Bellatrix and Narcissa had left, but this was her house and she was hungry damnit. She trudged down the stairs, wondering idly when she became so hostile. The sitting room was empty now and she felt her chest loosen a bit. Her dad was in the kitchen, making a sandwich. He glanced sideways at her when she came in, but didn't say anything. He usually didn't pry, which was nice. She grabbed a piece of bread and toasted it quickly, spreading some jam over it. She leaned against the counter and took a bite.

"What'd they want?" she asked quietly.

"Narcissa had some concerns about Draco and Bellatrix came to make snarky comments about my loyalty," he said bitterly. "They'll probably return later, so be prepared."

She opened her mouth to make a comment, but there was a knock at the door. Her stomach dropped. Dad moved quickly, but she grabbed his arm.

"I've got it," she said fiercely. Her stomach was warm and she remembered how angry she was. He had yelled at her. In public.

Opening the front door, she tried to keep her face passive. It was surreal to see George standing in the doorway of her dad's house, but she just raised her eyebrows.

"Can I help you?" George opened his mouth, but shut it again when he heard her tone. She felt a little guilty. He seemed unsure of what to say now. She wasn't sure what to say now either, anything too harsh was unnecessary and she couldn't backtrack without losing her nerve. She took a deep breath.

Before she could say anything, George wrapped her up in a hug, "I'm sorry," he said quietly. Her breath caught.

"Me too," she said thickly, her throat tight.

"Don't cry on me, you had to know I was coming," he joked. She smiled a little. "Look I know I acted like a prat, think we can start over and give this thing another go?"

She paused for a moment, "The flat is clean now right?" He grinned.

"It wasn't my ideal situation, but Mum did a hell of a job. We helped, don't worry," he added, seeing the look on her face.

"Then I think we could try again." she took a breath. "I really am sorry for bringing her without asking you first."

"It was the smart thing to do. Fred and I should've had it ready before you got there and I shouldn't have been such a prat about Mum. I'm sorry for yelling at you." He looked at the ground.

"Sorry for spoiling our first day back together," she took his hand in solidarity. They had both messed up today.

"It's not all bad. The flat got cleaned and there's still time left in the day," he smirked.

She leaned in close, "What can I do to make it better?"

"I'm sure I can think of something," he said with a cheeky wink. She went pink and glanced around to make sure her dad wasn't eavesdropping.

"So, I can come back?"

"Oof, sorry, we already filled your spot," he said in mock seriousness.

She gave him a shove, "Don't be a prat! I'll be right back and then we can go."

No sign of her dad in the hallway or sitting room, so he hadn't been listening, though she would bet her hat that Wormtail could be found lurking nearby if she looked hard enough.

Poking her head in her dad's study, "I'm heading back out Dad, I'll see you in a few weeks, love you!" Hopefully he heard her, since she didn't wait for a response. She was less than comfortable leaving George at the front door with Wormtail in the house.

She hurried back to the front room where George was waiting, unscathed.

"Ready?" he asked cheerfully.

"Take two."

She took his hand and they disappeared once again, appearing right in the living room, which was now spotless. The dust was gone and the boxes were unpacked and out of sight. Rubbish was thrown away and dishes were cleaned and put away. She grinned.

"Better?" George asked.

"Better," she replied definitively.

"Blimey, it better be for what you put us through," Fred complained from the kitchen. "I suppose I'm glad to see you lot have made up."

She took his hand and they made their way out of the flat and down the street. She was excited to pick out some furniture; Fred and George's flat wasn't quite her own place, but it was pretty close.

They were passing the ice cream place, Fortesque's, when a pretty blonde girl rushed out and crushed George in a hug, seemingly oblivious to Rowan's presence. Rowan narrowed her eyes; who was _she_?

"George!" She pulled back to reveal stunning blue eyes. She finally noticed Rowan and tittered, "Oops, sorry to be rude, you must be Rowan. I'm Melanie."

"Nice to meet you," she replied coolly.

"George and I are basically best friends," she giggled.

Rowan raised her eyebrows at George, "Oh really? He hadn't mentioned you." George was quiet. Melanie paused for a moment before continuing.

"Georgie, why would you keep me a secret?" she pouted.

Rowan felt her temperature rise a few degrees; that was her name for George. And why had he kept her a secret? Was this girl purposefully trying to piss her off? It was usually her policy not to read peoples' minds, but she thought she would make an exception in this case. Not because she didn't trust George, she did, but because she wanted to scope this girl out. Was Melanie just stupid, or was she actually stupid enough to mess with her?

Rowan stared at her, her expression blank and unreadable. Suddenly she had images of Melanie meeting George for the first time and being very touchy then too; that explained the hug. This girl had no boundaries. Her thoughts swirled around George. She thought he was cute and funny- she was right obviously.

Another memory came through; she had asked George on a date. He had turned her down very nicely, telling her about Rowan and offering his friendship. She had accepted gracefully, but she was persistent. Rowan could feel hostility surrounding herself- she wanted to split them up. She retreated from the girl's mind; she had found what she needed; most of it anyway.

She plastered a sickly-sweet smile on, "It's been really nice meeting you Melanie, but George and I are a little busy. I'm sure we'll see you around." She steered George away as Melanie waved enthusiastically and called out a goodbye.

Once they were out of earshot, she gave George a pointed look, "You didn't mention her. I was kidding when I wrote to you about staying away from bimbos, but-"

"I didn't want you to worry. She's not important," he shrugged. She hadn't been worried, but it made her happy to hear him say it.

"She asked you out."

"Yeah but-" he stared at her. "You didn't."

It was her turn to shrug, "I needed to know if she was just an airhead or if she was messing with me."

"She's obviously an airhead," he said dismissively.

"Not as much as you think Georgie. My Georgie," she added with a laugh. "She hates me. She was trying to upset me so we would fight."

George stared at her, "You're sure? She seemed so nice."

"I'm sure. I could feel it."

He paused, "You, uh, don't do that to me do you?" he asked tentatively.

"Of course not. I don't really do it to anyone. This was basically self-defense." George was quiet. "George, I would never do that to you. I trust you. And if you didn't want me to know something, I respect that. I trust you to tell me the important stuff." She paused, "Like when girls ask you out so I don't get ambushed."

He couldn't help but smile a little, "Okay, okay, I get it." He was still a little quiet though.

"George, you trust me, right? I've been able to read minds for years. If I was poking around inside your head, we would've been together ages ago. I've never-"

"I'm sorry. I do trust you. It's just unnerving, especially knowing that Melanie wasn't who I thought she was. I did think we were friends."

"You can still be friends, if you want to. I'm not stopping you," she shrugged.

He paused, "You really do trust me." He seemed surprised.

"Should I not?" she teased.

"Of course you should! You're just always on guard, you always have been. I didn't think-"

"You're the person I trust most George, I thought you knew that," she grinned at him. He looked pleased.

"You were still a little jealous back there, right?"

"Shut up!"

"You were!" he said triumphantly.

"Only for a minute! I think that's fair when some other girl is draped all over you!" Her face went red.

"That is so cute," he teased.

"It is not cute, I'll kick some arse if I have to George, so tell your girlfriend to watch out," she defended. "You're mine." She kissed his cheek.

Two hours later they were back in the flat admiring their new furniture. The dining table was dark wood with simple designs around the edges and could seat ten comfortably, although she was sure she would be cramming in more. Mrs. Weasley had gone above and beyond in earning a dinner invitation today; not that she needed one in the first place. They hadn't gone back to the first store for the maroon couch, but they had found an emerald colored one that nearly matched the table perfectly and had a coffee table to match.

"Not bad lovebirds, keeping the nest classy," Fred said approvingly.

"This place wasn't classy until I got here Fred," she joked.

"I must have forgotten what a lady you are; remind me, who was it that chugged an entire glass of firewhiskey at the Christmas party, got drunk, and started dancing to no music?"

"Hey, that was some expert level dancing; you're just jealous of my moves," she laughed. "Plus, I met Georgie's girlfriend today and didn't even pull her hair; it doesn't get classier than that."

"You got me there, did you at least slap her a little?"

"I thought you liked Melanie, Fred?" George asked incredulously.

"I said she was fit. But that girl is crazy and she's got it for you buddy," Fred teased.

"Well I'm glad you waited until now to tell me that," George complained. Rowan took his hand and squeezed.

"Your obliviousness is part of your charm Georgie," she said affectionately.

"What's part of my charm?" Fred pouted.

"Who said you had charm?" she teased.

"That's it, your lease is up, pack your things," Fred shooed her away.

"No way Freddy, you're stuck with me for the whole summer," she stuck her tongue out. Then she remembered her N.E.W.T.s; she still needed to tell them.

"About the summer," she began suddenly anxious. The twins both looked at her, worried. "I kind of have a job lined up in the fall."

"A job? Fred asked incredulously.

"A student teaching job at Hogwarts." They looked confused.

"But you don't take your N.E.W.T.s until next year," George scrunched up his face.

"I took them already. Got special permission from Dumbledore and everything. Assuming I passed, I'll be student teaching with my dad in Potions next fall."

They stared at her for a long moment. She hoped they weren't upset with her.

George rushed over and clasped her in a tight hug, "I'm so proud of you!" Her face got hot, but she hugged him back tightly, relieved that he wasn't upset.

"Really? You're not mad?"

"Why would we be mad?" Fred asked with a laugh.

"I thought you guys might be upset that I could've stayed here and worked in the shop with you," she admitted sheepishly.

"Are you kidding? We know how much you've always wanted to teach; I would've been mad if you didn't take it!"

"We should celebrate!" Fred added, hurrying off to the kitchen. As soon as Fred was out of sight, George pulled her in and kissed her.

"I'm happy for you," he smiled a little.

"Really, I can't believe you didn't tell us sooner," Fred scolded as he returned with a bottle of booze and three glasses. She noted that it wasn't the firewhiskey she had gotten George for Valentine's Day.

Fred poured them out drinks and lifted his glass theatrically, "To Professor Rowan!" George followed suit and they took a drink.

"I think you're supposed to use your last name," she laughed.

"Yeah, but yours is already taken-that would be confusing. Do you really want to get mixed up with your dad?" Fred teased. She stared at him for a moment, thinking about it; he was right. She took a long draw off her drink. The twins laughed and did the same-pretty soon they were all a little tipsy, Rowan more so than the boys. She realized once she took a step and swayed a bit; she hadn't eaten very much today and it was nearly dinner time.

"Geooorgieeeee," she drawled, "Can we make dinner? I'm really hungry," she slurred a little bit. George swept over and smoothly snagged her nearly empty glass. "Hey, I wasn't finished!" she protested.

"You're drunk love, I think you're good for now," he said gently.

"It's because I need food!" she said adamantly.

"That's because you're a lightweight," Fred teased from the sofa.

"I'll show you a lightweight," she muttered. She gestured at him vaguely, "Levicorpus." Fred was hauled up in the air by his ankle, protesting loudly.

He rotated around to face her and went slack, "How did you do that?

"Do what?" She scrunched up her face, "It's a spell my dad taught me-"

"No, where's your wand, you drunk dork," Fred exclaimed.

Rowan looked down at her hands; no wand. Oops. She turned to George; he was staring at her too. "Uh," she mentally scolded herself, "Bloody Hell."

"How long have you been able to do that?" George asked, dumbstruck.

"I guess, uh, always?" Her drunk self couldn't even come up with an explanation.

"You could do magic without a wand in first year?" Fred asked incredulously.

"Longer than that actually." Now that the secret was out, she was a bit proud.

"Most kids don't even have fully developed powers by five and you were doing wandless magic? Can you do non-verbal spells too?" George asked eagerly.

She stared at him for a moment, she wasn't sure why he was so excited. "I guess I never tried," she said pensively.

"Well if you want to try, you could maybe, I don't know, let me down?!" Fred complained loudly.

"Sorry Fred!" She left her wand in her pocket and thought "Liberacorpus," as fiercely as she could. She let out a squeak of surprise as Fred crashed back down onto the soft. He dusted himself off and George seemed unsure of what to say. "You guys can't tell anybody, okay? No one is supposed to know," she pleaded.

"Calm down, we're not gonna tell anyone," Fred said dismissively.

"Blimey Ro, I don't know if even Dumbledore can do that," George was still in awe.

"Mellow out mate, your girlfriend is a badass, so what? I mean, we already knew that anyway," Fred winked at her and laughed.

George seemed to snap out of it, "Fred's right, no big deal; we won't tell anyone." Rowan nearly knocked him over in a hug.

"Thank you, guys," she blubbered into his neck.

"C'mon, let's get you some food," George chuckled at her.

"Don't laugh at me! This is serious!"

He laughed again, "I'm sorry! It's hard to take you seriously when you're like this."

"You are such an arse George," she complained. Her eyes fell on the rest of her drink of the table. She sidestepped George and snatched it, downing the rest. She flipped George the bird and headed for the stairs, "I'm getting something to eat."

George rushed over and took her arm, "Let me help; I don't want you to fall."

"I'm fine," she said stubbornly, though she didn't shake him off.

They made their way to the Three Broomsticks and sat at a table, hailing Tom over.

She did her best to sound normal, "Hi Tom, long time no see."

His eyebrows raised a smidge, but he kept his voice polite, "Hello Miss Snape, Mr. Weasley, dining out tonight?"

"Yes sir," George replied politely. He ordered for both of them quickly.

"Anything to drink tonight?" Tom tried to keep a straight face, but a small smile won out.

"A glass of wine, please," she began.

"Water, for both of us, I think," George interrupted.

She rolled her eyes, "You're lucky I love you so much Georgie." She grinned at him, "It's like, a lot."

"Glad to hear it," he smirked. "I love you too, you dork."

"I hope so, 'cause we're gonna have to tip Tom really well so he doesn't tell my dad I was drunk," she giggled.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The next morning, she felt surprisingly fine. George had forced her to drink a lot of water last night, which she was grateful for now. She rolled over and nearly elbowed George in the face; she wasn't used to sharing a bed. He was on his back, arms over his head, breathing heavily, not quite snoring. She wriggled closer to him and took a deep breath; she could get used to this. He looked adorable; red hair tousled from sleep; mouth open just a little. He slept in only pajama bottoms, so his chest was bare; the blanket long kicked off in the heat.

She couldn't believe that they'd only been apart for a few months; she had missed him so much. It hadn't even been so difficult to be apart before. She didn't want to wake him up, but she couldn't resist nestling her head on his chest. She wanted to be close. He mumbled something and brought an arm down and wrapped it around her. She traced circles on his chest lightly and breathed a sigh of contentment.

"Morning," he mumbled blearily.

"Morning," she replied softly.

"How are you feeling?" He brushed his hand over her side.

"Alright, thanks to you. Thanks for taking care of my drink arse," she smiled.

"That's my job, right?" He chuckled. "Sorry I was so weird about your magic yesterday," he was suddenly serious.

She had honestly forgotten about all that, "It's alright. You were surprised; that's normal."

"I guess, I just- I've always known you were a talented witch, but this is another level. You've got this- raw power; who knows what you could do with it?"

She thought about it for a moment; she didn't know what exactly to do with it. She was suddenly reminded of her first night at the Malfoy's; when the Dark Lord had tried to peer into the depths of her mind. She hadn't thought about that in years. She remembered the feeling of it; the sensation that her head was going to crack open like an egg. She remembered it so intensely that she could feel it. Her head began to ache; maybe she was hungover after all.

"You okay? I wasn't trying to be weird again, I don't mean to pressure you-"

"I'm okay George, just got a bit of a headache," she grimaced.

He slid out of bed, "Here, I'll get you some more water and some breakfast, okay? That should help." She smiled gratefully despite the throbbing in her head; he was sweet. Once he was out of the room, she pinched the bridge of her nose, hoping it would alleviate some of the ache. She couldn't stop thinking about that night and it felt like the pain in her head was getting stronger. She remembered curling up in the bed, her head in agonizing pain. She had thought of it as a wall back then; that was it. She had told her father about the wall inside her head. That was why it hurt so bad when the Dark Lord was poking around.

With a flash, she saw those images again; same as before. There was a little girl walking fearfully through a wooded area, through Spinner's End; that was her. And the white house. It had blue shutters and a dark brown door; a bronze "4" beside the door. One story, a driveway and a small attached garage. But the more she thought about it, the more her thoughts clouded with the throbbing ache. Then, like the clouds parted for a brief moment, she remembered.

It was faint, but she could remember standing at the door to that house, hand in hand with a woman; a woman who looked so familiar, she could swear she had seen her before. Maybe it was because she looked vaguely like her; her mother. There was an argument; her mother was afraid, but the door slammed shut. After that, she had been whisked away and she could clearly remember the rest.

Suddenly, the clouds drew back and expelled her. Her head felt like it was on fire-she could feel that she had chipped away a piece of the wall. But despite the pain, she didn't give up-she had gotten a taste now. She had seen her mother's face and she needed to know more. She felt an involuntary groan escape her.

"George!" She cried out; she wasn't sure if she could even move. The fire was in her head, but she couldn't muster enough coherency to move.

"Breakfast is almost ready, be patient-" he rounded the corner into the bedroom, "Rowan? What's wrong?"

"Get-my dad," she managed to get out. George looked helpless; he was afraid. But he obeyed and disappeared with a crack. It was probably only a minute, but it felt like ages before they returned. Her father swept over and brushed a hand over her forehead like he had when she was in the hospital; nothing. She let out a strangled yelp and she saw his eyes widen.

"What have you done?" He muttered low. He cupped her face between his hands, "Back down." She couldn't; she wanted to see more. "Rowan, stop forcing it. You're going to hurt yourself." He forced her to meet his gaze; she had never seen him look so afraid before, so she obeyed. As soon as she stopped pushing, stopped trying to remember, the fire subsided back to a dull ache. She exhaled slowly.

"George, can you give us a minute?" He hesitated. "I'm alright George, I promise." He backed out of the room reluctantly. Her dad searched her face.

"I saw her."

"Saw who?" He broke eye contact.

"My mom," like that was the secret word, she teared up instantly. "I saw her Daddy. She was so afraid." His mouth tightened to a thin line. "She took me to a house, I don't know where, and she wanted help. But whoever she went to, they said no. So, she sent me to you."

"What triggered this?"

"I-I think it had something to do with yesterday. I did non-verbal, wandless magic. We were talking about it and, I don't know, I just remembered that day at the manor for some reason-"

"Leave it be, Rowan."

"Why? I want to remember; I need to know-"

"It's not time yet. I promise I'll explain everything eventually, but I don't want to see you hurt yourself."

"Why can't you explain now? Don't I deserve to know?"

"You do. Just not yet."

"Can't you at least tell me who she was?" She begged tearfully.

"She was trying to keep you safe because she loved you. I'm trying to do the same." With that, he was gone.

She let out a frustrated yell and swiped her tears away. George came rushing in, looking worried. At the sight of him, her self-control evaporated and she began sobbing. She held out her arms and he rushed over and wrapped her up.

"What happened?"

Hours later, she was still curled up in bed. Her head was fine now; it only hurt when she pressed the boundaries. She had tested them a little, she couldn't resist, but each time it made her head throb like a wound that had been picked at. After going over it all with George she couldn't resist one more try.

She knew George needed to tend the shop, so she forced him to go after explaining. She knew her dad would want her to keep it a secret, but George deserved to know. And if she was being honest, she needed to tell someone. She couldn't get her mother's face out of her head. She had so many questions; who was she? Why had she sent her to her father? What was she afraid of? Was she the one who put up this barrier in her head?

Her head gave a painful twinge and she shook herself; she had to stop. She would never admit it to him, but her father was probably right. She didn't want to hurt herself. That wasn't to say she would leave it alone. Developing her magical abilities seemed to be part of the key to unlocking those secrets, so she was more and more eager to return to Hogwarts so she could press her boundaries. She also suspected that Professor Dumbledore knew about this and she wasn't above going behind her father's back to find answers.

She slid gingerly out bed and got dressed before heading to the kitchen to get some more water. She supposed there was no point in wallowing any longer, she should get busy. She carefully descended the stairs and was surprised to see the shop absolutely packed. There were kids crammed from wall to wall, trying on Vanishing Hats and fawning over pygmy puffs. She waded into the crowd searching for the twins, but she couldn't seem to find either of them. How hard was it to pick out two tall, flaming redheads from a crowd of children? Apparently more difficult than she thought.

She shoved her way out the front door and sat down on the curb; she needed some air. It was absolute chaos is there and she wasn't sure how the boys managed. She took a deep breath, grateful for the cool breeze today.

"Hi Rowan!" A perky voice floated over to her. She stifled a groan. "Whatcha doing out here?"

"Just getting some air Melanie. How're you?" she asked dully.

"Good! Thought I'd come visit George, but it looks a little slammed in there," she mused.

"Yep, it's kind of crazy in there."

"Are you okay? Did you and George have a fight?"

Rowan sent her a scathing look, "No. I'm not feeling so good today. Not that that's any of your business anyway."

She tittered, "It's okay, you can tell me. I have a sense about these things you know."

"That's funny because what you apparently don't have a sense for is that I'm not buying your crap Melanie." Rowan had had enough; she wasn't in the mood today.

"What do you mean?"

"It means; leave George alone. He's not interested. And you and I? Not friends. I know you don't like me. Please go."

"I don't know what gave you that idea, any friend of Georgie's is a friend of mine, he's my best friend-"

Suddenly Melanie was blasted halfway down the block with a high-pitched shriek. Rowan watched openmouthed as she soared twenty feet in the air. She quickly gave herself a mental shake and grabbed her wand, "Spongify!" The cobblestone grew soft and springy just in time for Melanie to fall down with a soft whump. Several people flocked over to her, making sure she was okay. Rowan stayed where she was, still stunned. She hadn't meant to do that, but she knew with absolute certainty that it had been her. Melanie sent her a glowering look from the other end of the street, but said nothing. There had been plenty of witnesses to say that Rowan hadn't spoken an incantation, or even had her wand in her hand at the time. But they both knew.

She couldn't help but feel a little bit of satisfaction; Melanie was a real twat. But she was also afraid; she had never had a problem controlling her magic before. This; she couldn't even say that it just slipped out. She hadn't even felt it. Was this all connected to the barrier in her head?

She stood and hastily shoved her way back into the shop. She craned her neck and finally spotted Fred at the counter, rapidly accepting coins and laughing with customers. She squeezed her way behind the counter and made her way over.

"Where's George?"

"I think he went upstairs to check on you," he replied distractedly.

She rushed up the stairs; she wasn't sure why she felt such an urgent need to tell him what happened. But she was afraid and frankly a little embarrassed by the outburst; she didn't like feeling like she was out of control.

She called up the stairs, "George?"

"Rowan?" She reached the top and nearly crashed into him. "Are you okay? I was worried something happened-"

"Something kind of did happen, but I'm okay," she reassured him.

"What happened?" he asked fearfully.

"I- uh-" she wasn't sure where to begin now. "I got up and I couldn't find you guys in the shop so I went out for some air. Melanie came over to visit you and she was bothering me and uh- I think I blasted her a half a block away." She went red, "It wasn't on purpose, I don't even know how I did it honestly, it just sort of happened-"

"Is she okay?"

"Well yeah, I spongified the ground before she landed, so I'm pretty sure she's alright," she said sheepishly.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm just- I'm afraid. I don't know what's happening to me," she confessed.

"We'll figure it out. You're gonna be okay," he said firmly. He put his hands on her shoulders and gripped her tightly.

"You're not mad?"

He grinned, "Mad? Under normal circumstances I'd think it was hilarious. I'm curious, what did Melanie do to put you in a fit?"

She went pink, "Er- she uh- she called you Georgie and, uh, said you were her best friend."

He smirked, "That's it?"

"She was also obviously hoping to hear that we'd had a row!" She said defensively.

"You are so jealous!" he teased. She crossed her arms, but for once found herself without a witty retort. He pulled her close, "You know you're my best friend, right?"

"Well yeah, but you know, it's nice to hear sometimes," she muttered reluctantly.

He chuckled and kissed her quickly, "I should get back downstairs to help Fred before he gets overrun."

"I can help!" She offered quickly; she wanted to spend more time with George, he made her feel more at ease.

"I'd feel better if you hung out for today, maybe it's all just a fluke and you'll be back to normal tomorrow," he suggested lightly.

"Oh, alright. That's probably a good idea," she looked away.

"You don't have to, just an idea" he said quickly.

"No, you're probably right," she conceded. She pulled him and kissed him desperately, "Just come back soon okay?" His neck went red and he nodded fiercely before descending the stairs.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

She flopped onto the couch and let out a sigh. She wasn't sure what to do with herself. She flipped her wand in the air and caught it. Then an idea struck her and she set it quickly on the coffee table. She made a mental list of all the basic spells she could reel off and began practicing. A few, like alohomora were easy, both wandless and nonverbal. Lumos was proving to be surprisingly difficult and she couldn't quite figure out why it wasn't working. She supposed it had to do with the lack of conduit; light usually emanated from the wand in this case and now it had nowhere to go.

She gave up on the nonverbal part for now and gave a frustrated sigh, "Lumos!" She gasped as an orb of light seemed to burst forth from her palm and hovered in the air next to her. "Whoa," she breathed. She gave the orb a slight tap; it moved easily at her touch. She cupped it in her hand and lightly tossed it back and forth; each time it landed in her palm it grew brighter. She mimed hanging it in the air and walked a few feet away; it grew dimmer the further she got.

"Lumos!" she commanded again. A second orb sprung to life and hovered next to her as if waiting for orders. She laughed aloud and scooped it up, guiding it back toward the first one. Cupping one in each hand, she smushed them together. With a deceptively quiet poof, they imploded in her hands, leaving them vaguely burnt and sooty.

"Ow, bloody hell!" She exclaimed, surprised. She coated her hands in burn balm; luckily, she'd sustained plenty of burns from her cauldron over the years, so she usually had some on hand. Ten minutes later, her hands felt fine. She wasn't sure if the effects of the spell wore off quickly or if the balm helped, but she was relieved. She should probably be a little bit more careful if she wanted to experiment; Fred and George wouldn't be pleased if she burned their flat and, more importantly, their shop to the ground. At that point she thought it best to take a little break, so she settled onto the couch with a book and a little light orb over her shoulder.

A few hours later, she heard the twins coming up the stairs; it must have been closing time. She muttered a hasty, "Nox," and dismissed her orb. She wasn't quite ready to share her new skills yet.

"Honey, I'm home!" George called up. She laughed and bounded to the landing to meet them.

She kissed George on the cheek and said loftily, "I was going to make dinner, but it seems like you lot need to do some grocery shopping."

"We order out mostly," George said sheepishly.

"You can't tell me you two don't know how to cook," she raised an eyebrow. Fred only shrugged. "Your mum is an amazing cook; how can you have not learned anything?" Fred shrugged again and she rolled her eyes. "You're hopeless. Speaking of your mum though, we should invite her to dinner soon."

"Why?" They boy asked incredulously.

"She cleaned your bloody flat for you knobs, plus she's your mum!"

George made a face, "She was just here though, can't we have some time to breathe?"

She crossed her arms, "If you'd prefer, we can invite my dad for dinner?"

"Fine! We'll invite mum, but you have to cook!" Fred pointed at her.

"You aren't off the hook so easily; you two have to help me," she scoffed. Fred sent her an obscene gesture, but didn't argue.

"Are we doing this tomorrow?" George asked.

"I-I can't tomorrow," she covered quickly. "I'm busy with my dad. We can do the day after." So much for not looking guilty.

The twins each raised an eyebrow but didn't ask any questions. They didn't know any details of her arrangement, but they were safer that way. They knew by now that she couldn't and wouldn't answer any of their questions.

George coughed, "Well let's get some food then."

She grinned and took his hand, "Good idea, I'm starving."

The next day, she finally got to work down in the shop with the boys. Between waiting on the freshly out-of-school crowd and cleaning up the store, she barely had time to breathe. She had planned on enchanting some merchandise, but the day went by so quickly that she didn't have time. It was a lot of work, but it was fun. It felt good to be laughing and joking with the twins again and guiding budding pranksters was satisfying. But tonight's Death Eater meeting was resting in the pit of her stomach like a rock. Before she knew it, they were closing up the shop and she was giving George a kiss goodbye.

"I'll probably be back late, don't wait up for me, okay?" she said solemnly.

"You don't wait up; I've got a date with Melanie tonight," he teased. She knew he was kidding, but her brow still scrunched up. "I'm joking! I'll wrap it up before you get home," she smirked.

She shoved his arm, "You are such a prat!"

He bent down and kissed her softly, "I love you. Stay safe."

She blew out a sharp breath, "I love you too." She gave a small wave and disappeared.

She appeared at Spinner's End and waltzed through the door, "Dad! You ready to go?"

He swept through the doorway and shot her a look; he hated when she yelled in the house. He wordlessly held out his arm and she gripped it tightly before they disappeared together. Now they stood in front of the pearly gates of Malfoy Manor. They passed through the gates; she no longer flinched like she used to. The peacocks strutting around the yard gave her a pang of unease; Lucius was out of prison; as were all of those she had battled at the Ministry. She was going to have to face him and Bellatrix.

She tipped her chin up and walked into the house and into the meeting hall with her back straight and her father at her side. Bellatrix looked up eagerly as they entered the room, flashing her a malicious grin. The Malfoys all sat huddled together; Lucius looking gaunt, Narcissa miserable, and Draco afraid. The rest of the room hummed with energy and it felt like everyone was staring at her. They found their place at the table, uncomfortably close to the Malfoys, and they waited. Everyone stood as the Dark Lord entered the room.

He spread his arms, "Welcome back everyone; good to see some of our younger faces returning to us." He looked pointedly at her and she tipped her head slightly in response. "The first order of business tonight is an update. It has come to my attention that there have been whispers regarding Rowan's involvement at the Ministry. Let me be clear; Rowan followed her orders to the letter and remains an invaluable asset to us as a member of Potter's inner circle."

Bellatrix rose angrily, "Was this," she gestured to her side, "part of her orders?"

"Dear Bella, she only grazed you, don't be so dramatic. Rowan's response to you killing that blood traitor was a work of art. One that will allow her to get even closer to Potter during his time of weakness, as she and I have already discussed." They hadn't. "Her actions were indicative of someone who assumed that the adults," he sent a look at Lucius "would be able to handle the situation. Any questions regarding her loyalty can be brought to me."

She tipped her head, "Thank you, my Lord, for your support."

He paused, "That being said, I have your next assignment. I strongly suspect that Horace Slughorn will be teaching at Hogwarts this year. Your job is to get close to him; I have a feeling he will absolutely adore you." He smirked as though enjoying an inside joke. "I can attest to the fact that he's rather easy to manipulate-but he is well connected and could be valuable to us. I planned to request that you aid Draco in his task, but he is confident that he can handle it on his own and eager to prove himself," he tipped his hand to Draco, who nodded swiftly. "If the younger crowd will give the adults a moment, we have more to discuss. Rowan, wait for me in the study."

She left the room and headed to the room with the fireplace; the very same as they had met in years ago. Her head gave a painful twinge at the memory. She stood solemnly, waiting for the Dark Lord to join her. Ten minutes later, he swept in and closed the door behind him.

"Sit." She sat on the plush sofa and placed her hands politely in her lap, back rigid. "What happened in the Department of Mysteries?" he asked simply. She retold the story, emphasizing her attempts to communicate with Lucius and Bella's carelessness with her cover. "And the prophecy?"

"I nearly had it, my Lord; I don't know who jinxed Longbottom's legs but the fool broke it." She winced internally; sorry Neville.

"Bellatrix claimed you attacked her because of that fool. Draco confirmed that you have a, ah, relationship with the boy."

"I did. I could lie to you my Lord and say I attacked Bellatrix to solidify my loyalty as Dumbledore had just arrived. But really, I've spent time with Longbottom. I think he may have potential as one of our ranks in time." She swallowed, "And as I'm sure you know, my Lord, I've never gotten along with Bellatrix. It felt good," she admitted. That part was true.

He tented his fingers, pausing to think it over, "I'm glad you were honest with me, Rowan. If I thought for one moment that your loyalty was faltering, there would be consequences. Consequences not even your father could protect you from." The words were thinly veiled as threats. The message was clear; she was on thin ice.

"Of course, my Lord," she bowed her head, "Thank you for your understanding." He flicked a hand lazily her way as means of dismissal.

"Oh, by the way Rowan; congratulations on your student teaching position." She gave a curt nod and walked briskly from the room. Once outside, she let out a long breath. It was nerve-wracking to be near the Dark Lord- particularly because she had to keep her thoughts shielded the whole time.

She and her father left quickly; she didn't want to come face to face with Lucius or Narcissa. She was ready to be back at the flat with the twins where she could pretend that her life was normal. Back at Spinner's End, they took advantage of Wormtail's absence to discuss the meeting. Her father agreed that she should tread lightly and do as she was asked; he seemed hesitant to have her befriend Slughorn.

"Professor Dumbledore hasn't even recruited Horace yet, so be wary; the plan may change. You need to be able to roll with the punches to return to the Dark Lord's good graces," he explained cautiously. She nodded and bid him goodbye before returning to the flat. She tiptoed up the stairs and stifled a chuckle; George was asleep sitting up on the sofa, surrounded by merchandise. He must have been making new stock to wait for her.

She crept over and kissed him gently on the forehead, "George, c'mon, let's go to bed."

He snapped up, rubbing his face, "I'm up! I'm awake!"

She laughed, "Let's get you to bed."

The next morning, she woke up early and went out to get the shopping done. She wanted to make something special. She made sure to leave a note, letting the boys know where she'd gone and they were running business as usual when she returned. With a wave of her wand, the groceries were put away and she popped over to the Burrow to send out the invite.

"Hello Rowan dear, would you like some breakfast?" Mrs. Weasley greeted her.

She grinned, "No thanks Mrs. Weasley. I was actually wondering if you'd like to come for dinner tonight?" Mrs. Weasley looked hesitant. "The flat is still clean, I promise. And how long has it been since someone cooked for you? She asked sympathetically.

She couldn't help but smile a little, "That would be lovely."

"Great! The four of you?"

Mrs. Weasley nodded, "Arthur, Ron, Ginny, and myself. Thank you dear."

She smiled brightly, "We'll see you later then!"

She popped back to the shop and worked with the boys until it was time to start cooking, when she practically dragged George up the stairs to help her.

He groaned, "Why me? Take Fred!"

"It's for your mum, you arse," she scolded. "And I'm not sure if you know this, but you're my favorite twin; I'd rather have you over Fred," she teased.

"If I'm your favorite, you should set me free and make Fred help," he suggested hopefully. "Plus, the shop is really busy, so really I should go help-"

She huffed, feeling a little miffed, "Fine, go back downstairs."

He sobered up, "I was just kidding, I can help."

"I don't want your help if you don't want to be here. I just thought it would be fun to cook dinner together," she looked away and busied herself with prepping.

He rested his hand on the small of her back, "I'm sorry. I know we've been busy and haven't been able to spend much time together yet, it's just been so busy in the shop-"

"It's always going to be busy George. You have to make time."

He paused, "You're right. Fred can handle the shop; what do you need me to do?" She didn't reply for a moment so he squeezed her side.

"Hey!"

"What. Do. You. Need?"

She was feeling so scattered after the meeting last night; she was both excited and dreading returning to Hogwarts. She didn't want to fight with George; she wanted to enjoy the time they had together. She was acutely aware of his hand still on her waist. She stood on tiptoe and pulled him in.

She stepped away, face pink, "Still think I should've asked Fred?" He grinned and they set to work. By the time they were finished, she was anxious. It was nearly time and she hoped it was good enough. She knew she couldn't compete with Mrs. Weasley's cooking, but she hoped it would hold up.

George took her hand, "Don't be nervous. You did fine." They heard Fred trooping up the stairs and as if on cue, the rest of the Weasleys arrived. Everyone sat and she fidgeted under the table until George brushed her knee reassuringly.

"Thanks for the invite kids, it's good to see you all," Mr. Weasley said jovially.

"How's the shop coming along?" Ginny asked eagerly.

"Business is booming little sister," Fred bragged.

"It's kind of crazy down there," Rowan interjected. "Now that school is out, it's packed pretty much every day." Mr. Weasley nodded approvingly and Mrs. Weasley was silent.

"I know you don't approve Mum-" George began.

"I'm glad you boys are doing well. I'm proud of you two," she said thickly. Mr. Weasley patted her back gently.

"Thanks Mum," both twins went red. They chattered away the rest of the meal easily; the twins were eager to share about the shop and Ron and Ginny were practically foaming at the mouth by the time they were done.

Mrs. Weasley gave her a hug before leaving, "Thank you for dinner dear, it was lovely."

"No problem Mrs. Weasley. I'll have to come by for some cooking lessons before we host again," she half-joked.

"Nonsense, you did wonderfully," she argued, patting her on the cheek. Rowan grinned and hugged Ginny before waving goodbye as they departed.

"See, that wasn't so bad," she mused.

"It was alright. Your cooking isn't as good as Mum's though," Fred raised an eyebrow.

"Fred!" George leapt to her defense.

"Don't worry George; Fred's just upset that he has to cook us dinner tomorrow since he didn't help today," she dictated coolly. Fred scowled and she smirked.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The next morning, she woke up to the smell of bacon. She opened her eyes to find both twins standing at her bedside; George brandishing at tray laden with breakfast and Fred with two wrapped gifts.

"Happy birthday Rowan!" they shouted in unison. Fred blew a muggle party blower in her face. She winced at the noise, but sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

"Thanks, you guys, this is so sweet," she said blearily. George set the tray on her bedside table and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead.

She grinned and bit into a piece of bacon, "So what did you get me?" She eyed the presents.

"Let's find out, shall we?" Fred said airily as he placed them beside her. She tore into the larger and better wrapped of the two first; clearly it was from Fred. Inside was a knapsack made to look like a fox; her patronus. "Enchanted it myself," he grinned proudly. "It's like the tent from the World Cup. You can fit a ton of stuff in there."

"And it's so cute!" she exclaimed.

"That too," he smirked.

"I love it, thank you!" Fred sent George a victorious look, but George was unfazed. She more carefully unwrapped the second box. She felt a small puff of air escape her lungs; inside was a bracelet. Amethysts and diamonds set in a delicate silver braid. "George-" she wasn't sure what to say. It was stunning. "It's beautiful," she said thickly. "You didn't have to-"

"Told you I'd make up for leaving," he grinned. Fred muttered something under his breath that sounded like, "Show off." She leapt up and pulled them both into a tight hug.

"Thank you both so much." She wanted to go on more, but she really didn't want to cry and she was already pushing the limits.

George sat on the edge of the bed, "Here, let me put it on you." He clasped it around her wrist and she turned her hand over, watching it sparkle. She grabbed him and pulled him close, kissing him fiercely.

"Thank you, Georgie, I love it."

"I'm glad," he grinned. "Now eat your breakfast, we've got plans for today."

"We do?" He only grinned at her. She ate quickly and got ready; she was eager to see what he had planned. She dressed in a skirt and a nice blouse, since she wasn't sure what the day held yet. George was ready and waiting in a red button down that clashed brilliantly with his hair. They called a goodbye to Fred and headed out. She expected to go farther in to the alley, so she was surprised when he led her out and into London.

"Where are we going?" she asked curiously.

"You'll see," he squeezed her hand. Twenty minutes later they arrived at a theater. The billings were covered in bright, flashing lights and movie titles and there were movie posters lining the brick wall. George grinned, "What do you want to see?"

She checked out all of the posters carefully, "This one." They bought their tickets and went inside, which was awash with the smell of popcorn. They loaded up on snacks and found their seats, eager for the movie to start. Two hours later they wandered out, blinking in the sunlight. George was carrying on about the film; it had been animated so it was completely different from the one they'd seen in the Room of Requirement.

They walked around London a bit more, window shopping and joking around; arm in arm. George offered to buy her every item she pointed out in the store windows; clothing, jewelry, makeup, even a four-foot tall stuffed bear.

"You don't have to buy me things George," she chuckled. "You already got me a present, remember?'

"That was for your birthday," he conceded. "But I don't need a reason to buy you presents," he grinned. "I just want to see you smile," he grinned. She made a face at him that technically met the requirements for a smile. He burst out laughing and she dragged him away from the shop.

"You don't need to buy me things to see me smile either Georgie. I just like being with you," she nudged him. He seemed pensive for a moment so she poked his side, "If you really want, you can buy me as many presents as you want," she teased.

He looked at her pensively, "I've never had money to spend before, I guess. It's nice to look at something and think, 'I could have that if I wanted,' you know?" She didn't really; her father had always made she that she had what she needed, but he was far from a frivolous man. Nissa has always wanted to buy her whatever she wanted, but she felt guilty letting others spend money on her. George continued, "I want you to have everything you want and it's nice to feel like I can give it to you," he admitted, neck reddening.

"You've always been able to do that. I appreciate the idea and I like presents," she winked at him, "But I've seen people who have everything they want and it's not as important as you think. All I want is you Georgie," she smiled at him.

"Well you've got that," he grinned.

"I'm not tired of you yet," she smirked and kissed him on the cheek.

They got dinner at a fancy restaurant; they were both a little underdressed, but neither of them seemed to mind. By the time they finished, it was starting to get dark so they opted not to walk all the way home. George pulled her into a shadowy alley, out of muggle sight to apparate, but first he kissed her, pulling her close and burying his fingers in her hair.

She exhaled, "Whoa. Happy birthday to me." He laughed and off they went; returning to the flat. On her bedside table were two new gifts.

"Fred, where did these come from?" she called out.

The little one is from Ginny, she dropped it off about an hour ago. I dunno about the other one," she called back. She opened the little box, inside was a charm for her bracelet. It was a tiny car, bearing a strong resemblance to Mr. Weasley's old Ford Angelina.

She chuckled and Fred raised an eyebrow from the doorway, "That's a Weasley charm, Ginny's christening you."

"What does that mean?" she laughed.

"You're a Weasley now," he grinned at her. George was doing his best to appear interested in his fingernails, but she knew he was listening for her response.

She shrugged, "I'll take that deal. There are worse things to be." She shared a look with Fred and they grinned at each other.

"Well there's only one way to really become a Weasley, Snape," he led.

"I know Fred, it's not really ideal, but I'm gonna have to marry you if I don't wanna let Ginny down," she couldn't keep the smirk off her face.

Fred got down on one knee and mimed opening a ring box, "Rowan Morgana Snape, will you-"

"Sod off, you prat," George gave him a shove and knocked him over.

"What's the matter Georgie? Don't you want me to be a Weasley?" she teased. He looked at her, a shade of maroon. He began sputtering until she and Fred lost it completely, laughing hysterically. George somehow managed to go even redder and muttered something under his breath. She added the charm to her bracelet and settled back onto the edge of the bed to open her other gift. She thought maybe it was from her father, but her heart sank as she opened the card.

"Rowan,

I know things are complicated right now and I understand why you need your space. I'm sorry about what happened to you and friends and for your loss of something important to you. I know you probably think I'm evil because of my beliefs about muggles and my support of Lucius.

I know you don't support what we do and as I'm writing this, I can't believe it took me so long to realize. I know you better than most people and yet, I've been deluding myself. Your brilliance is unmatched, but your heart is too kind and open for what we do. Perhaps I'm wrong and this letter is grounds for my execution, but I'm certain that you're too smart to believe the things I have for so long.

I know I've made some big mistakes and I don't want to make another one by losing you. I just need you to know that I love you like my own daughter, no matter where we both end up.

All my love,

Narcissa"

She had begun crying before even getting halfway through. She felt an overwhelming sense of relief that Narcissa saw her for who she really was and still loved her. This was also another layer of risk though; the more people who knew her true allegiance, the more in danger she was.

"Ro, are you okay?" George asked lightly. She nodded slowly and opened the box. Inside, nestled carefully in velvet was a tiara, encrusted with diamonds that glittered even when she held it still. Her mouth fell open and she picked up another note tucked in the box with shaking hands.

"I know it might be a long way off, but I wore this on my wedding day and my mother did before me. In case I'm not able to make it to yours, I want you to have it."

She wanted to see Narcissa now; obviously she couldn't write back to confirm her suspicions without putting them both at risk. She was surprised that Narcissa had put any of it on paper in the first place. Had she been wrong, Rowan could have easily gotten her killed. Narcissa trusted her.

"Bloody hell, is that a crown?" Fred asked incredulously.

"It's a tiara. For my wedding," she replied thickly.

"But you're not getting married, unless I missed something; in which case, I'm hurt George," he placed a hand over his heart.

"Knock it off you twat," George shoved him. "You didn't miss anything."

"Who is that from?" Fred demanded.

"Narcissa."

"I thought you two weren't on speaking terms," George asked, confused.

"We haven't been. That's why she wants me to have it." She teared up again and busied herself closing it back up to be put somewhere safe.

"Alright princess, don't cry," Fred teased lightly.

She scowled at him, "Don't call me that." He smirked at her and she glared at him before standing up to tuck the gift away. She felt guilty shelving it; she felt like it should be on display. But she also wasn't keen on leaving it out. She tucked it into her closet; she would put it in her Gringotts vault next time she went. She turned away and movement at the window caught her eye.

Her father's owl, which he refused to name, but she called Lux, was jostling around on the windowsill. She opened the window and Lux hopped in. She stroked his feathers absently and unwrapped the scroll from his leg. The note was a simple "Happy Birthday" and a request for her to stop home when she had time. She wasn't sure if she could handle any more gifts today, but she slipped on a jacket and let the twins know she would be back soon.

She arrived at home and went inside, hoping Wormtail was at the manor so they could speak freely. She moved through the small entryway and through the living room to her father's office; that was where he spent most of his time.

She gave a quick knock before pushing the door open, "Hey Dad."

"Happy birthday Rowan," he looked up from the paper he was reading, "You got my owl."

She nodded, "Thanks Dad. I got a letter from Narcissa today too," she said lightly, giving him a questioning look. He replied with an ever so slight shake of her head, which meant Wormtail was here. "Just a happy birthday, which was nice of her," she continued.

He pulled a wrapped present from his desk drawer which she opened carefully. Inside was a dusty, but neatly organized photo album. She opened it to a random page and came across a family photo of her grandparents and what was clearly a child version of her father. Her grandparents were standing as far away from each other as they could, arms crossed, and her father sat on the ground at their feet, looking unhappy. She flipped to the back of the book, where there was a photo of herself as a child, sitting on her father's lap. She couldn't be older than six; she remembered having the photo taken. Narcissa had been hounding her father for weeks about not having any photos of her in the house until she finally showed up with a camera and took a bunch herself. After persistent badgering, Narcissa managed to get her father to sit with her for one photo of the two of them together.

"I know it's not much-"

"It's our family. I love it."

"There's one more thing," he pulled a letter from the drawer. The envelope was yellowed with age and sealed with wax. She turned it over; it had her name written on it in curly script. Her heart skipped a beat. Her fingers struggled to open the seal as her hands trembled; she leaned up against her father's desk for support.

"Rowan,

If you're reading this, it means I'm no longer around. So, I'm sorry that I wasn't there to see you grow into the lovely young woman I know you'll become. I wish so badly that I could be there to guide you, to answer your questions, which I'm sure you have many of.

I don't know how much your father will have told you at this point. You're an adult now, but he's somewhat withholding and I'd be willing to bet, very overprotective of you, even if he won't admit it. I want you to know everything so you can understand why I made the choices I did, but I'm not there, so I'll have to defer to his judgment.

What I can tell you is that you're a special young lady; and not in the way that every mom thinks her kids are special. You have great potential and an important role to play. If I can't be there to help you through it, I need you to know that I love you. I didn't send you to your father because I didn't want you, as you've no doubt wondered, I did it to keep you safe and it breaks my heart to say goodbye. The best I can do now is offer some advice; keep those you love close to you. You're going to need them; no matter what the future holds. Be brave, be strong, and most importantly, be kind. Don't let the world make you hard; there is good in everyone if you're patient enough to find it. Tell your father that you love him and that I do too because he needs to hear it. Remember that I'm always with you and I'm proud of you.

Love, always,

Mum"

She stared at the letter, trying to process her emotions. Her mom had written this, with a pen and parchment and her own hand. She had had doubts about whether her mom had loved her as a child; she couldn't understand why she would send her away. As an adult, she understood more, but it was different to see it written on paper that her mom loved her.

She had so many more questions now. Her mother had obviously known she might be in danger; that must have been why she was so afraid in her memory, but what had happened to her? What was this potential she mentioned? What was her role? What was her relationship with her father like? If he needed to be told that she had loved him, maybe he didn't know it. He was waiting for her to finish reading, although he likely knew that it had been much longer than necessary.

"Do you know what this says?" she asked quietly.

"I haven't read it." She felt a strange sense of relief; she wanted to keep it just between her and her mom. It felt special.

"I have questions."

He sighed, "I'm not surprised. I'll answer-"

"When the time is right?" she finished sarcastically, prepared to be denied.

"-if I can," he finished smugly.

"What happened to her?" she asked quietly.

"She was killed during the Dark Lord's last reign."

"Was she a Death Eater?" She was almost afraid of the answer.

"No. She was a member of the Order."

"Will you tell me what happened?"

He paused, "I can't yet." She sighed.

"What's this role she mentions I'm supposed to play?" He gave her a sympathetic look. "Okay, you can't tell me that either. Were you two-"

"We weren't together. But I loved her," he was curt, it was clearly a sore spot.

"She loved you," she gestured to the letter. "She wanted you to know."

"Not quite the same way." He didn't meet her eyes. She let out a breath.

"I feel so close to her, but somehow still farther away than ever," she sighed. Her dad rose and stood next to her awkwardly. She suppressed a laugh and wrapped him in a hug. He had never been much of a hugger, but she didn't think he'd ever hugged her so tightly.

"I love you Dad."

"I love you too Rowan."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The summer seemed to pass by in a blur after that. She and George explored every nook and cranny of Diagon Alley and they continued to dive deeper and deeper into muggle London. They made a game of finding weird muggle items to gift each other. So far, she had gifted George a lightbulb, which he was fascinated with, a pinata, which now hung from the ceiling in their bedroom, and a handheld video game.

The shop flourished; business was getting better by the day and the three of them could barely keep up with demand. When she had gone to deposit her tiara in her Gringotts vault she had discovered that George had been making deposits to her account by swiping her key. She had scolded him and hidden the key in a different place, but he insisted that it was only fair to pay her for working in the shop and she was pretty sure he was still managing it somehow.

Melanie wasn't out of their hair unfortunately, but Rowan hadn't lost her temper again since that incident. Melanie popped up maybe once a week, but she kept her distance from her. Rowan had feigned concern and fear the first time they met again, but she clearly wasn't buying it. Rowan was sure she would come around again in full force once she had returned to Hogwarts, but she wasn't worried about Melanie anymore.

She did run into Narcissa while she was out school shopping with Draco. She had intended to remain dignified, but as soon as their eyes met, she barreled over and nearly knocked Narcissa over in a tearful hug. She didn't mention the letter, but they both knew the makeup was confirmation of Narcissa's suspicions. She wasn't sure things between the two of them would ever be like they were, but Rowan still loved her.

Pretty soon she was packing her things; getting more and more depressed as her bedroom with George began to look less and less like her.

"How's the packing going?"

She jumped at the voice behind her, "Bloody hell George, you scared me!"

He grinned, "Sorry."

"You are not," she rolled her eyes.

"So, how's it going?"

"To be honest, I don't know how I'm going to fit all my junk in here. I also realized; I don't know where my quarters will be. Will I have an office?"

George shrugged, "You'll be fine, I doubt they'll put you in a broom cupboard." He paused, "You don't have to pack everything you know; you'll be back here eventually, right?"

"Yeah, but I don't want to stick you with all my junk," she made a face.

He pinched her side and teased, "I like your junk."

"George!"

"What? I meant your stuff!" She rolled her eyes again, but smiled. "I like having your stuff around, it reminds me of you."

"You'll still write me?"

"Of course I will, you knob, why wouldn't I?"

"I don't know! I just feel like I'll be lonely this year. I'm not a student anymore. Plus, I've been with you every day all summer and Fred is basically like a pet-" George laughed, but she stopped and stood. She grinned at George and bolted from the room and out of the flat.

She trotted briskly down the street; she knew vaguely where the shop was, but they'd only gone in once earlier in the summer. She stopped out front, where a half dozen owls fluttered in their cages. The door jingled when she walked in, but there was no one at the counter. She ambled around the shop; was pretty picked clean, seeing as it was a new school year. She hoped she wasn't too late.

The door to the back opened and a man she guessed to be in his late forties came out, "You looking for something in particular?"

"A cat."

"It was a popular year for cats, most of 'em are gone." Her face fell. "But you don't look like the typical school crowd," he gave her a small smile. "Follow me." He led her into the back room, although there wasn't much to see. He shook a tin and a gray streak flew by her ankles.

A lanky looking grey cat was now attempting to climb its way up the man's leg, clearly digging its claws into his calf every step of the way. He quickly set a treat on the ground and the cat dismounted instantly.

"This is Lucinda; I call her Lucy. She's been her for a few months now, but I can't get her to tame enough to unload on some poor eleven-year-old."

She crouched and held her hand out for the cat to smell. She clucked her tongue and Lucy trotted over and swiftly gave her a quick nip on the meat of her palm. Rowan had hoped for an instant connection, but the man seemed rather impressed. He showed her the scar she had given him when he first brought her in. She watched as the cat trotted around the room, swatting at dust mites and bugs, leaping from place to place.

"I think you'll get along fine," he mused. "She's got more energy than she knows what to do with, but she's a good cat. Smart." She watched Lucy darting around the storeroom; her intention had been to get something mellow, some good company. But she liked this cat and besides, it hadn't bitten her very hard.

"I'll take her."

The man situated her with a cat carrier, food and water bowls, cat food, and a few toys. He even threw in a bag of treats for free, insisting that she would need them. This proved to be true before she had even left the store, as it seemed that Lucinda didn't care for the cat carrier. She wouldn't be coaxed in and any treats they put inside, she would paw out before eating. After five minutes of wrestling, the two of them managed to get her inside. She clawed at the cage wire, trying to dig herself free.

"Good luck with that one," he chuckled as he held up his thumb, which had an impressive gouge taken out of it, "She got me one last time." Rowan made face, hoping that she hadn't made the wrong decision.

Twenty minutes later she was back at the flat and Lucinda was streaking from one end to the other, wanting to see and smell everything in the new place.

"Are you mental?" Fred gestured to the gray blur blasting past him.

She put on a sad face, "I'm leaving, I needed a friend."

"It had to be a psychotic friend?"

"She's not psychotic!" She put her hands on her hips indignantly, "She'll calm down! Plus, she likes me!"

"Well, she doesn't like me," Fred complained. Lucinda had hissed at him.

"That makes two of us then!" She glared at him.

"George, a little help with your woman?"

"His woman-" she began incredulously.

"She's leaving tomorrow Fred, give it a rest, will you?" George was in a mood.

"Well good riddance then!" Fred headed for the kitchen. George's ears went red and he made to follow his brother.

"Whoa, whoa, what's wrong George?"

"It's almost time for you to leave, he shouldn't be wasting our time arguing with you," he muttered bitterly.

She squeezed his hand, "I'm not dying George, I'll see you again soon."

"It's weird not to be going back," he admitted.

"I get it. I'm going back, but not like before. And I'm going back without you," she said wistfully.

"We knew this would happen." He seemed to be trying to convince himself.

"But that doesn't make it easier," she argued. She tugged him by the hand, "C'mon, Fred can piss off, let's do something."

"You think the cat will be okay?" he hesitated.

"She'll be alright, she's- er- independent," she grinned.

On September first, she woke up early, cursing her anxious tendencies. George was wrapped around her like a python, breathing evenly. She made to untangle herself and slide out of bed, but his arms tightened around her.

"Nope."

"You're awake?"

"Yep."

"You okay?"

He paused, "You can't move?"

She tested the limits of his iron grip, "Nope. I'm stuck."

"Then I'm okay."

"You'll have to let me go eventually," she nudged gently.

"We'll see about that."

An hour later, they both rolled out of bed; it was time to get ready whether they liked it or not. George trailed behind her everywhere she went, absently reaching out to touch her every so often like he was afraid she would disappear. She gathered her trunk, stuffed everything else into the knapsack Fred had given her for her birthday, and wrangled Lucy into her cage. With a wave of her wand, her things disappeared. It felt strange to send them ahead instead of taking them on the train. Then again, it felt strange to not be getting on the train.

She gave Fred a hug goodbye and told him to get his act together while she was gone; she could tell he was sad because he only laughed instead of insulting her back. George leaned up against the banister to the stairs with his arms crossed, watching her approach.

"It's gonna be okay," she tried to sound reassuring.

He blew out a breath, "I know. But I'm gonna miss seeing you every day."

"Me too," she said softly. "You can visit me in Hogsmeade," she reminded him hopefully. "And I'll be home for Christmas." He gave a curt nod. "C'mon Georgie, cheer up," she urged. "I love you."

She pulled her into a bone-crushing hug, "I love you too." She kissed his cheek softly and disappeared with a crack. She arrived in Hogsmeade feeling out of sorts; it was almost nostalgic from when she was a kid. She half expected to see Filch at the gate like it was a Hogsmeade weekend, but there was no one. She trudged up to the castle, half-tempted to stop at Hagrid's hut just to see a familiar face and remind herself that this wasn't a big mistake. She should have accepted her dad's offer to come with him, but she'd wanted to take the first step on her own.

She peeked into the Great Hall; it was eerie when it was empty, the dishes gleaming on the tables. Would she have to eat at the staff table this year? The idea was strange. She continued down to the dungeons; her father was probably already here. She knocked twice and went in, but her father wasn't there. His things were gone and the office was bare. Alarm bells gonged in her head; where was he? Had something happened?

"You must be Rowan," a voice boomed from further in the office. An older man emerged from the far door and bustled down the stairs. "You'll have to forgive the state of my office; I haven't had the chance to get my things out yet-" he paused in front of her and met her gaze; his face going blank for a moment.

"I am, er- nice to meet you-"

He gave himself a shake, "Horace Slughorn, my dear. I'm quite looking forward to working with you this year; I hear you're quite the potioneer." She must have looked confused because he continued, "Didn't your father tell you? He accepted a position teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts." He seemed vaguely amused.

"I guess it must have slipped his mind," she replied absently. "It's been lovely to meet you Professor, but-"

"Yes, yes, you need to speak with your father, go on now. We shall have plenty of time to get to know one another," he grinned good-naturedly.

"Thank you, sir." She hurried out- she wasn't sure she liked the way he looked at her. Not quite creepy, but a little too curious; like she was a gift ready to be opened.

She practically ran up to the third floor; she couldn't believe that her father hadn't told her that he'd finally gotten the job he'd always wanted. She burst into his new office, which was already organized with his things. He looked out of place somewhere other than the dungeons.

"I suppose you've heard then?" He glanced up from his desk.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked incredulously.

"I only found out recently myself. I haven't seen you," he replied coolly.

She made a face, "Are you trying to make me feel guilty?"

"Why would I? Do you feel like you should be guilty?"

She huffed, "I'm happy for you is all. Although I wish I'd known so I hadn't gotten ambushed by Slughorn. Are you excited?" He raised an eyebrow. "I mean, excited for you anyway."

"I'm glad I get to teach something I enjoy, if that's what you mean." She grinned; for him that was practically over the moon. "Did Slughorn show you where your office is?"

"No, I have one?" she asked eagerly.

"Across the hall from Horace. Your old bedroom," he nearly smirked.

She rolled her eyes, "That's poetic."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

At the feast, she sat to her father's left at the staff table. She felt so small sitting at the head of the hall. A few professors, McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout, gave her kind, somewhat proud smiles, but she still felt out of place. She had waved to Ron, Hermione, and Ginny when they came in, but she wished she could sit down at their table.

After dinner, she descended back to the dungeons and finished setting up her office. She watched Lucy roam around for a few minutes before remembering her orders from the Dark Lord. She had acted like a weirdo when she met Slughorn today. With a sigh, she trudged across the hall to Slughorn's office and knocked on the door. He called out permission to enter and she sidled in. The office was now decked out in extravagant and unique devices and décor. Photographs of Slughorn surrounded by students lined the walls and clever looking little devices were neatly organized on shelves and tables. He also seemed to be a fan of ornate clocks and furniture; he himself was nestled into a comfy-looking oversized chair.

"Don't look so guilty my dear, come in. What's on your mind?" he asked kindly.

"I- I just wanted to apologize if I seemed rude earlier-"

"You were caught off guard, nothing to worry about."

"Thank you, sir. I am looking forward to working with you this year," she smiled at him. He looked at her curiously and her smile faded. She walked around the room to avoid eye contact, examining his photographs and trinkets.

"And I, you. I've heard your aptitude for potions may even exceed your father's and I taught him you know," he wagged a finger at her.

She laughed lightly, "I think you'll find that I'm rather more pleasant to work with than my father as well." He chuckled heartily and rose to curate his possessions. He was explaining his conversation hourglass to her when she froze. In one of Slughorn's photos, was her mother.

He pointed, trying to keep her hands from trembling, "Professor, who is that?"

"Aha, that's who you remind me of!" he said eagerly. "That's Lily Evans, well, Lily Potter after she married, I suppose-"

He kept talking, but she couldn't make out the words over the roaring in her ears. That was her; there was no doubt in her mind. They had the same soft waves in their hair, although hers were black. She had her father's eye shape, but the vibrant green came from her. The same green that everyone said Harry had. If Lily Potter was her mum then; she exhaled sharply, Harry was her brother. She had a brother. She knew who her mother was. And she knew what had happened to her. The Dark Lord- no, Voldemort had killed her.

"Are you alright, my dear? You're looking a little pale," Slughorn asked her, leaning into her peripheral vision.

"Suddenly I'm not feeling quite well sir, you'll have to excuse me again," she hurried out of the room and out of the dungeons. She bypassed her father's office and went straight to Dumbledore's. She wanted the truth and she knew he would give it to her.

She had been given the new password, "toffee éclair," in her acceptance letter for her position, which she now spoke aloud, trying to keep the shake from her voice. The spiral staircase rose and she knocked firmly on the heavy door.

Enter," Dumbledore replied faintly from within. She marched in, her questions on her tongue until she saw her father standing over what appeared to be a birdbath. Dumbledore's left hand was blackened and shriveled; just poking out of his long robes. Her father raised an eyebrow. She steeled herself; it was too late to turn back now and she had to know.

She met his gaze and refused to break eye contact, "Lily Potter was my mother." It wasn't even really a question at this point. Her father said nothing.

"Yes," Dumbledore said simply.

"Harry is my brother."

"Well, half-brother, but yes." Her father looked to be in pain. She collapsed into a chair, eyes welling up. "My mom didn't die in the war, she was murdered. The Dark- Voldemort killed her." Dumbledore nodded solemnly. "And Harry-"

"Cannot know. Not yet," Dumbledore dictated softly.

"Not yet? I'm tired of 'not yet!' When?" she demanded. Rage was pooling out of her. She'd been kept in the dark her whole life and now she found out that she had been following the orders of the man who had murdered her mother. "I want answers damnit! I'm sick of being treated like a child. If my 'role' in all of this is so important, don't I deserve to know what the bloody hell is going on?"

"You do," Dumbledore replied evenly. "And you will. But things must happen in their own time or we risk you not only hurting yourself, but many others." He paused.

"What does-"

He held up a hand, "However, I will tell you what I can. Unless, Severus, you'd like to-"

Her father gave a curt shake of his head, keeping his gaze on the floor.

"Very well. So, you know, like most, that Voldemort killed the Potter's when Harry was a baby." She nodded. "Do you know why?" She shook her head. "It has to do with that little ball you and your friends so bravely fought for at the Ministry last year." He continued to explain how that prophecy had been relayed, by her father, only in part to the Dark Lord. How, fearing a threat, the Dark Lord had tried to kill Harry and failed. How her mother had sacrificed herself to protect Harry in that moment and in doing so, had protected him with old magic. The prophecy self-fulfilled and the Dark Lord was vanquished, for a time. Now Harry had to be the one to destroy him.

"Not alone!" she protested.

"Of course not. He will need his friends beside him, you included." For a moment it seemed like there was more to say.

"Where do I fit into all of this?" she asked.

"No. That's enough for now," her father cut it. She opened her mouth to argue, but thought better of it.

"When can Harry know? I-" she glanced away, "I'd like to have a brother."

Dumbledore gazed at her over his spectacles, "When the time comes, I trust you'll know."

She sighed, "I don't feel any better."

"I'm not usually a fan of the saying 'Ignorance is bliss,' but I feel that it may apply here. Your life seems complicated and frustrating; understandably so."

"I'm sorry I yelled," she went pink.

"Also understandable. Now it's getting late and you have your first day of teaching ahead of you."

She nodded, "Good night sir. Good night Dad."

"Oh, and Rowan," Dumbledore called her back, "You aren't required to sit at the staff table for meals."

She still skipped breakfast the next morning; her options were to sit at the staff table and sit by her dad or sit at the Gryffindor table and look Harry in the eye. She felt a little bitter than she'd been deprived of having a brother for all these years. How could she keep a secret like this? She wished George were here; she missed him already. She spent breakfast practicing her nonverbal magic and playing with Lucy. Lucy had wandered at that flat, but here at Hogwarts she was sticking by Rowan's side pretty closely. She wasn't sure if it was because of all of the people, but she liked the company.

Watching Lucy play with some yarn, she got an idea. She quickly hurried up to the library before the first class of the day. She searched the stacks quietly, not wanting to reveal to Madame Pince what she was looking for. Finally, she found it; the "Guide to Animagi." She tucked it in her knapsack and hurried back down to the dungeons. The rest of her morning was spent encouraging timid first years and showing them how to properly cut materials. She was eager for more advanced classes so she could show off for Slughorn. She couldn't bring herself to care about the Dark Lord's orders, but Slughorn clearly knew her mother and she wanted to know everything.

Finally, it was time for the N.E.W.T. level class. She saw a lot of familiar faces and grinned as Harry and Ron filed in unprepared. She made sure to avoid Harry's eyes. She volunteered to demonstrate after Slughorn did his dramatic introduction. Felix Felicis was the perfect way to impress him. By the end of class, Slughorn was blown away, but not only by her. Harry had somehow managed to brew a perfect potion. She eyed him warily; he'd never shown aptitude for potions before and it seemed odd to her. Regardless, Slughorn was practically raving about the two of them, long after class was over.

She followed Slughorn to his office, gratefully accepting his praise; which she had to admit, after years of her father's withholding, was rather nice. She found herself lingering in front of the photo of her mum again. The young photo version of Lily blew her a kiss and laughed; Rowan felt a smile creep its way onto her face. She realized abruptly that Slughorn had ceased his monologue.

"I miss her, you know. Such a talented witch, so much potential. But a good heart too; she was incredibly kind. After observing today, I see her in you, you know." Her mouth fell open, searching for some kind of excuse. She cursed herself for being so obvious. "She was my all-time favourite student," he continued. "I can't believe I didn't recognize you right away, to be frank with you," he chuckled. "But why all the secrecy? You should be proud-"

"I am. I- It's not my secret to tell-"

"Nor mine, I suppose," he sighed. "Either way, you've got great potential, coming from two such talented potioneers."

She gazed at him hopefully, "Will you tell me about her? My dad, he-"

"It's like a sore spot. I shouldn't be so surprised; I saw how he looked at her, even all those years ago. My dear, I'll tell you anything you want to know."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

She woke up the next morning feeling exhausted. She'd stayed in Slughorn's office long after dinner was over, listening raptly to his stories about her mum. She gave herself a mental shake; today was a new batch of students, which included the fifth year Slytherins. She was familiar with many of them and she had doubts that they would follow her instructions without a fight. Her stomach rumbled, so she went down to breakfast and sat next to her father. They hadn't spoken since that night in Dumbledore's office. She knew she should tell him that Slughorn knew about her mum, but she couldn't bring herself to break the silence.

Halfway through the meal, he muttered low, "You look tired."

She took a breath, "I was up late. Talking to Professor Slughorn about Mum."

He sent her a sideways glance, "You told him-"

"I didn't," she hissed. "He figured it out on his own." She glared at him; she was sick of secrets and it was unfair of him to burden her with his. She took her toast and left without another word. This put her in a foul mood for the Slytherin/Hufflepuff fifth year class. So, when a few of Draco's buddies decided they wanted to give her a hard time, she wasn't having it.

"She's not even a real professor," one of them muttered after she corrected his stirring technique.

"She's always gotten special treatment because her daddy is a professor," someone replied.

She narrowed her eyes, "It's not my fault that you don't know the most basic elements of potion-making. First years know how to stir," she replied coldly. "Just because you lot have skated through this class in my 'daddy's' good favor up until now, doesn't mean I'm not your professor. Your free ride ends now." She crossed her arms.

"You're barely even older than us; we don't have to listen to you," the first boy challenged.

"You're right. I'm a measly two years older than you and I've already passed all of my N.E.W.T.'s and gotten a job. And you lot don't even know how to stir a potion. Ten points from Slytherin," she smirked. "Anyone else have a problem learning from me?"

"Professor, she can't do that!" the boy protested.

"I believe she can young man, now kindly sit down and focus on your stirring. She's right, it's rather sloppy," Slughorn replied, seeming rather amused. She sat down angrily.

"In a mood today, are we my dear?" Slughorn asked conspiratorially.

"A bit sir, I'm sorry," she went pink.

He chuckled, "That bit of temper; I bet everyone assumes that comes from your father." She nodded; she had always disagreed when people told her she had her father's temper. When he was angry, he became cruel and vindictive. "That fire, that righteous sort of fury comes from Lily if I ever knew her," he grinned. She felt a strange sense of relief at his validation. She desperately wanted to be like her mum. Especially after hearing about some of her father's actions in the past. There were a few times in her life when she could remember being proud of her father, but she wasn't sure she'd ever felt so ashamed as she had last night after hearing about how he relayed the prophecy to the Dark Lord, only to regret it when it affected him personally.

Later that night, she wrote George. She desperately wanted to tell him everything, but it didn't feel safe to put it in a letter. It would have to wait until the first Hogsmeade weekend. She did tell him about the changes to the staff; her father teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts and Slughorn as her mentor instead. She mused about Dumbledore's hand and asked if Melanie had moved in yet. She sent Eleanor off with the letter and stood at the top of the owlery for a few minutes. The September night air felt good and the inside suddenly seemed claustrophobic. The stars were bright over the castle, which was a nice change from Diagon Alley, where the light from London made them nearly invisible.

There were footsteps and a sudden halt behind her as someone stopped short, "Oh. Hi Rowan." She jumped a bit at the noise. She turned around and relaxed when she saw it was Neville.

"Hey Neville." He struggled to get his letter attached to one of the unruly school birds. "Here, let me help," she offered kindly. She stroked the birds head gently to get it to still.

"Thanks," he muttered gratefully.

"No problem," she replied lightly.

"What are you doing up here?" he asked curiously.

"I was sending a letter, but the stars are nice, so I'm sticking around for some air," she shrugged.

He was quiet for a moment, "Is it alright if I stay?"

"Sure," she agreed. It seemed a little odd; she didn't think they'd been alone together since they ended their tutoring sessions shortly after the breakup. He leaned up against the balcony with her and it was quiet, aside from the rustling of the birds.

"I just wanted to say thank you. I meant to write you over the summer-"

"Thank me for what?" She was confused.

"For helping me at the Ministry. You attacked Bellatrix to protect me," he went pink and so did she. "It was brave."

"You were brave too!" she argued.

He laughed lightly, "Thanks." He thought for a moment, "I always had this idea in my head that one day I was going to save you and you were going to fall for me again."

"Neville-"

"I know that's not how it works. But that night was the night I realized that you don't need saving. I get it now. Why things didn't work out between us, I mean. I'm just glad you're happy. And that you're my friend," he gave her a warm smile.

"Thanks Neville," she replied faintly. Without another word, he descended down the stairs. She felt a little taken aback by the conversation, but she was glad it had happened. The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. Neville was capable of so much, but he needed motivation to step up. He was so timid when she dated and she had dominated him; not allowing him to stick up for himself or stand on his own. Maybe their breakup was the motivation he needed to step up and fulfill his potential. Or maybe she wanted to feel better about it. Either way, it was starting to get cold, so she headed downstairs and went to bed.

As time went on, she found it more and more difficult to be away from George. By all accounts, things should have been easier. Slughorn absolutely adored her, the teaching was going well, and her magic was advancing rapidly. She could perform most spells silently and wandless now. She hadn't mastered her animagus form yet, but she was making progress. She had been tempted to follow her patronus and become a fox, but a cat seemed to be more useful and certainly more discrete. But really, she didn't care about any of it much; she just wanted to see George.

Finally, the first Hogsmeade weekend arrived. She practically ran over a group of lost-looking third years who were likely on their first visit to the village. She hurried to the Three Broomsticks where she and George were meeting. She was nearly to the door when someone crashed into her, nearly knocking her over. She caught a whiff of licorice as she was wrapped in a tight hug; George. She pulled away the slightest bit so she could kiss him hungrily. Someone wolf-whistled, but they didn't care. When they finally broke apart, she was grinning wildly.

"I missed you."

"No kidding," he grinned.

They went inside and ordered drinks and she made sure they were at a table in the corner so they had some privacy. She had so much to tell him, but first she wanted to hear his voice.

"What have I missed?" she asked eagerly.

"The shop is still doing well, although it has slowed down since school started. Fred misses you even if he won't admit it," he smirked.

She laughed, "Awe, tell him that I miss him too!"

"Speaking of which, Melanie asked me to tell you that she misses you terribly," he grinned devilishly.

"Don't mess with me!" she scolded.

"I'm not! She said that! She comes around at least once a day now, just like you said she would," he toasted her jokingly. She snorted. "What's going on with you?"

She broke eye contact; she was nervous for some reason.

"Is everything okay?"

"I found out who my mum is," she blurted out.

"Wha- who is it? Anyone I know? What's the gossip?" he joked nervously.

"You can't tell anyone, George. Not even Fred. I'm serious."

"Okay, okay, I won't tell a soul," he held out his pinky. She couldn't help but laugh as she took it with her own.

She met his gaze, "It's Harry's mum. Lily Potter." His face scrunched up, confused.

"I thought she and James dated right out of school and then they got married. When-"

"When they were first out of school, she and James had a big fight and split for a bit. I guess that was long enough for my dad to swoop in-" George laughed at the image, "-and here I am." She shrugged. She didn't entirely understand either.

"So, you and Harry-"

"He's my half-brother. But George, he can't know yet. On Dumbledore's orders. That's why you can't tell Fred or anyone. If it gets back to Harry-"

"Relax. I won't tell." He paused, "How long have you known for?"

"Since the first day of school," she answered sheepishly.

"You kept it to yourself for that long?" he asked incredulously.

"It wasn't safe to write in a letter. I kind of had to keep it quiet after I yelled at my dad and Dumbledore," she muttered. George nearly choked on his butterbeer. "I've got another secret for you," she smirked. He leaned in and she kissed him over the table, "I love you." He grinned.

They sat in their corner talking for a long while before heading out toward the Shrieking Shack. It was always deserted out there, so it was a good private place to snog. Once the day was over, George walked her back toward the gates soberly.

She took his hands, "Only a few more weeks until Christmas. Then I'll be home."

"Only a few more weeks," he echoed, trying to reassure himself. She kissed him softly and trudged back up to the castle. There was some kind of commotion at the castle, so she hurried up the walkway to see what was going on. Professor McGonagall was issuing orders to a group of students huddled around the thrashing form of Katie Bell.

"Miss Snape, kindly help up get Miss Bell to the hospital wing," she dictated. Rowan grabbed a thrashing arm and helped to haul Katie upstairs. They careful laid her in a bed; Rowan holding her down while Professor McGonagall fastened some straps to keep her from falling off or hurting herself.

Madame Pomfrey bustled over, "What happened?"

"The students say she came out of the bathroom in the Three Broomsticks with a package. A necklace was inside. When she touched it, she was cursed," McGonagall explained soberly. Rowan gazed at her fearfully; she liked Katie. She hoped she was okay.

At dinner, everyone was buzzing about what happened to Katie. She had her suspicions about who was behind it, which solidified as she saw Malfoy's blonde head bob out of the Great Hall before dinner had even started. She rose to follow him when her father yanked her back into her seat by the elbow. She said nothing, but strode out of the Great Hall as well.

She huffed and picked at her food. She hoped her father was lighting into Malfoy; he had been careless and sloppy, putting others in danger. She didn't know what his mission was, but he should be more careful.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

She could hear music from all the way down the corridor and groaned; it wasn't too late to turn back, but Slughorn had made her promise to come. She wished George was here; he always made this kind of thing fun, but she'd never gone to a party like this alone before; she hadn't been to many parties like this at all. She had planned on skipping the Yule Ball until George forced her to go with him, "as friends." She smirked to herself thinking about it; if only she knew then what she knew now.

She'd invited Neville, but he had already accepted a job serving for some extra money. She had even invited Ron, thinking that he might like to go since Harry and Hermione were; he'd seemed sort of upset at being left out, but he had bitterly declined. So here she was, alone.

To compensate, she'd dressed up nicely for the first time in a while. Her dress was a shimmering emerald that crossed over her right shoulder and seemed to trickle onto the floor like liquid. It was a loaner from Narcissa, although Narcissa usually conned her into keeping the things she borrowed. Her usual waves were curled into loose ringlets that she'd swept over her bare shoulder. Her grandmother's hairpin was tucked into her hair on the opposite side and her charm bracelet from George jingled on her wrist. If she was being honest, she'd have to admit that she felt amazing. She felt festive and pretty, even if she wasn't all that excited about the part itself. She'd even had Katie snap a picture for her so she could send it to George with her next letter.

She forced herself to stand up straight and hurried down the hall and into the fray. Inside was a sort of organized chaos; people were all over, but bunched into groups, talking and laughing loudly as servers crisscrossed the floor with trays. She scanned the room, searching for a group that held Harry or Hermione, but instead she found Neville, dressed smartly in dress robes and holding a tray with hors d'oeuvres. She caught his eye and grinned, waving eagerly, grateful for a familiar face. He froze and stared, the serving tray going slack.

She rushed over, "Neville, you're spilling your snacks!" She laughed.

"Oh, shoot!" He straightened, face glowing red, "You look amazing Rowan."

She went pink, "Thank you-"

"Miss Snape, over here!" Slughorn interrupted, hailing her over to his crowd.

"Go on," Neville smiled at her kindly.

"Thanks Neville," she replied earnestly before trotting over to Slughorn. He was dressed in a fancy green tailcoat and had clearly had a bit to drink. His cheeks were rosy red and he was gesturing wildly, sloshing his drink over the edge of his cup.

"Would you look at this one? Cleans up rather nicely, doesn't she? She looks as lovely as-"

"Professor!" She was certain he had been about to end that sentence with, "her mother."

His face went even redder, "Apologies, my dear." He gestured broadly, spilling his drink on Blaise Zabini, "Never mind an old man, go! Have fun! And you don't have to socialize with the help." He chortled to himself and there was uncomfortable laughter from those nearby.

"'The help,'" she emphasized, a bit irritated, "Is my friend. And all of them are your students, not something for you to laugh at, Sir." She turned on heel, ready to leave and was intercepted by Hermione on the floor.

"Rowan, thank Merlin, help me," she wheezed.

"What's wrong?" she asked urgently.

"I left Cormac under the mistletoe, but he's so persistent," she gasped for air. Rowan couldn't help but laugh. "It's not funny!" Hermione protested indignantly.

"I'm sorry! But what were you doing bringing that wanker as your date anyway?"

"I was trying to make Ron jealous!"

"Well that certainly worked; I invited him to come and he declined, rather rudely actually."

"Really?"

"If he's waiting for Slughorn to invite him himself, he better not hold his breath. I've talked about George about a million times and Slughorn still doesn't remember his name. He hears 'Weasley' and tunes right out, unless you're pretty like Ginny, I suppose," she muttered bitterly. Slughorn was irking her. "Not that Ginny isn't talented, but-"

"There you are! I've been looking all over for you!" Cormac had found Hermione. She tried to run, but Rowan gripped her hand like a vise.

She narrowed her eyes, "Take the hint McLaggen. She doesn't want to kiss you." Hermione squeaked.

He switched gears quickly, "How about you then? You came alone tonight." Between Cormac and Slughorn, she was ready to boil over and she'd only been at the party for twenty minutes.

"First of all, Cormac, I have a boyfriend, but you knew that. So, we'll give you the benefit of the doubt and say that you thought George and I broke up. Even if I was interested; which, to be clear, I'm not, because I don't like pompous, arrogant prats, that would be incredibly rude to my friend, who came as your date." Hermione's mouth was gaping open.

But Cormac was sticking to his guns, "What's rude, is inviting a guy to a party and not even-"

"Not even what, McLaggen? Kissing you? Are you implying that your date owes you something for your trouble? The only thing owed here is basic human decency, which you seem to be lacking." Cormac grumbled his way out the doors and Hermione sputtered.

"Sorry Hermione-"

"Sorry? That was incredible!" She seemed to be so relieved that she was willing to forgive how brutal Rowan had been. Rowan snagged a couple of drinks off the tray of a passing server, making sure to thank them, and handed one to Hermione.

"C'mon, let's dance," she pulled Hermione out onto the dance floor, where they found Luna dancing alone.

"Hey-"

They were interrupted by Filch and Draco; Draco being tugged by the ear and snarling.

"This boy claims he was invited to your party, Professor," Filch uttered gleefully.

"I was crashing, okay? Happy?" Draco spat. "Now let go of me, you filthy Squib."

Filch began again, but Slughorn interrupted, "Quite alright; it's not a crime to want to attend a part after all-"

"Draco. Let's go." Her father strode in and took Draco by the arm. His eyes flickered to her for a split second before they returned to Slughorn.

"Now, now Severus, no need to be harsh on the boy; after all, it is Christmas-"

"I'll manage the discipline of my students as I see fit Horace," her father replied silkily, escorting Draco out. Filch looked disappointed that he wouldn't be the one doing the punishing, but the night was still young. He hurried off to find some other poor soul to harass.

The music picked up again and she joined Luna in her strange dancing. She and Hermione sipped their drinks until they were both getting a bit pink and Hermione was tipsy enough to join them in their dancing. Finally, Harry appeared.

"Harry! Where have you been?" Hermione asked with a giggle. Rowan feeling her drinks to be sure, but she didn't miss the look on Harry's face. She was willing to bet that he'd followed her father and Draco when they left; where else would he have disappeared to? Hermione had confided in Rowan that Harry had been obsessing over Draco, convinced he was up to something, so it was likely he was willing to eavesdrop. None of them knew it, but Harry was right. She only hoped he hadn't overheard anything that would make things complicated for any of them. She left it alone for now and continued dancing with Luna, long after Harry and Hermione had left.

When the band began a slow song, she sat and sipped some water. Luna continued dancing by swaying slowly by herself and waving her arms gently, but Rowan could use a break. What she really wanted was some more sparkling wine, but she knew if George was here, he would be forcing her to drink water. She wished he were here; she hadn't danced with him since they'd been together. She hadn't appreciated it enough at the Yule Ball.

"My dear," Slughorn appeared next to her, making her jump. She had been lost in thought. He held out his hand, "Spare me a dance before the night is over?" She narrowed her eyes slightly. "Now don't look so suspicious, I owe you an apology." She took his offered hand cautiously and stood. She noticed he placed his hand very carefully; she was no longer a student, but he knew to be cautious-that was a plus.

"Rowan dear, I must apologize for how I acted earlier; I'd had a bit to drink and I was rude to you and your friend-"

"Neville," she corrected.

"Yes, yes, I'm sorry you were upset by-"

"Professor, with all due respect, that' not an apology. I didn't get upset for the sake of being upset. You have a tendency to disregard people who don't have the right last name or don't adequately impress you. Neville is a talented Herbologist, but you wouldn't know that because you wrote him off immediately without getting to know him."

Slughorn seemed flabbergasted, "My dear, he could change my opinion, I'm an open-minded fellow-"

"He shouldn't have to change your opinion, Professor, nor should anyone else. You should give people a chance before you judge them. Their worth is more than what they have to offer you, Sir. You're a teacher and you owe your students all an equal chance to succeed; it's your job to believe in them and help them be great. Not to decide who is or isn't great for yourself." She stepped back and turned on heel, exiting without looking back. She had enjoyed spending time with Slughorn; she loved hearing about her mother and he was an interesting guy as well as a talented potioneer, but she couldn't stand by and watch him look down on people arbitrarily. Perhaps she should speak to Dumbledore about working with Professor McGonagall instead.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Finally, the Christmas holidays arrived. She packed up her things eagerly and waited. Professors, herself included, waited until the students boarded the train and departed. Her father was remaining at school over the holidays, which was unusual. They had stayed over breaks when she was a child, but once she'd met the twins and started dividing her time, he'd started coming home so he could see her over the holidays. She went up to his office to say goodbye, where he offered a curt farewell.

She stared at him for a moment, "Did I do something wrong?" He didn't reply. "You've barely spoken to me since the start of the school year; what did I do to make you angry with me?"

"You haven't done anything wrong."

"Then what's going on?" she demanded. She was angry with herself for being so upset, but she felt like she was missing something.

He looked up with an exasperated sigh, "You know the truth about me now."

"What?"

"You know what a coward I truly am. How I let your mother down; she's gone because of me. How can I look you in the eye?"

She exhaled sharply, "You're brave Dad. You made a mistake, a bad mistake, but you've done your best to fix it."

"Don't make excuses for me-"

"I'm not, you are! You made a mistake and you've been beating yourself up about it for sixteen years. You've convinced yourself that you're weak and cowardly so when you want to do something you know is wrong, you can justify it by saying that you're already bad," she crossed her arms. "I can't believe that you've barely spoken to me in months just so you can feel bad for yourself." She turned to leave and the door slammed shut.

"You don't know the whole story and you cannot talk to me that way," he shouted. He never shouted.

She flinched, but stood her ground, "I don't care about the story, I care about you. And you can't push me away because you're my dad and I'll love you no matter what."

"You don't know what I am. You don't know what I've done-"

"I know you better than anyone. Maybe better than you know yourself since you've decided to surround yourself with self-loathing. I know who you are, whether you want me to or not. Happy Christmas Daddy." She wrenched the door open and left.

Her things were already at the flat and George had released Lucy from her cage, so she was zooming around. George swept her into a hug practically as soon as she touched down in the living room. She kissed him and gave Fred a hug before flopping onto the couch.

"Everything okay?" George prodded.

"I think my father had exceeded the limitations for how angsty a grown man can be." The twins laughed and she left it at that.

There was a knock at the door and the boys exchanged a look, "She was cutting it close." She shot them a questioning look.

"Melanie. She knew you were coming back today; looks like she thought she could beat you here," Fred chuckled.

"Well, I wouldn't want to disappoint," she grinned wickedly. Now seemed like as good a time as any to show off her new skill. Fred moved to answer the door and she held up a hand for him to wait. Then she transformed into her animagus form. The twins gaped as they stared down at a sleek black cat with large emerald eyes. Fred had to compose himself before opening the door.

Melanie burst in, scanned the flat quickly and then glommed onto George, "George! I thought Rowan was home today?"

George still looked bewildered, "She, uh, is coming home today. Her stuff is here, so she should be here any minute." Melanie made a sort of face and Rowan trotted out to wrap herself around George's ankles.

"Awe! What a cute cat!" Melanie exclaimed, reaching out to pet her. Rowan hissed and darted away, glad that cats couldn't laugh because she would have lost it. She listened as the boys shooed Melanie away and changed back to strut into the living room, grinning widely.

"Bloody Hell Ro!" She smirked.

"When did you learn that?" George asked, awestruck.

"I'm still mastering the transformation, but I've been working on it all school year," she said proudly. "I think I make a pretty cute cat."

"Melanie thought so too for about ten seconds," Fred howled.

"Hey, I only hissed," she held up a clawed hand, "I could've brought out the claws."

"You've been holding out on us!" George complained.

"It's new!" she defended. She thought about all of the other things she'd been working on.

George noticed, "There a definite 'but' at the end of that sentence."

She rocked on her heels, "I've been practicing."

"Practicing what?" Fred asked.

She took her wand out and set it on the coffee table, thinking "Lumos." A ball of light burst from her palm and the twins' jaws dropped. She tossed it to George and he flinched and sidestepped. It bobbed in the air and she chuckled, "It doesn't hurt unless you try to smush them together; speaking from experience."

"Lemme see," Fred crouched in front of it and squinted. He poked at it gently. She conjured up a few more and set them adrift.

"What are they?" George asked, still seeming suspicious, although he now prodded at one as well.

"It's Lumos," she said simply.

"We could market this," Fred noted eagerly.

"I thought that too, but watch," she walked a few feet away and the lights dimmed slightly. "I think they require constant energy to power them." Fred cursed under his breath. "You could say I can really like up a room," she grinned. George winked at her and Fred groaned.

"What happens if you put them together?" George asked curiously.

"They implode. You get a little burned, but it heals fast," she shrugged and thought, "Nox." All of the little balls extinguished.

"How many spells can you cast like that?" George stood.

"Most of them now, but the majority aren't that exciting. The ones that create something like Lumos and Aguamenti are the most difficult because they require a channel; I really have to focus the energy on a specific spot." The twins looked impressed. "No one else knows, about the animagus thing either; I'm unregistered, so keep it all quiet, okay? I think it's all a part of something big and I don't want to mess it up."

That night, she had a strange dream. It was like a flashback; she was in the study again where she'd met with the Dark Lord, but she was alone. She paced around the room anxiously until she noticed a mirror over the fireplace. When she stepped up to it, her mother's face looked back at her. Then it changed; she was a child again, sitting next to her father across from the Dark Lord. He was focusing intensely on her and then it was like she'd been sucked into a black hole. She was standing at the base of an enormous dam. She approached and saw a crater in its surface, with hairline cracks extending out from all around it. She brushed it lightly with her fingertips and felt, rather than heard, a shift in the air. She had the foreboding sense that she would be crushed under the rubble if she didn't move right now, but was unable to make her feet move.

Suddenly, she woke up, her head aching and her face wet. She thought maybe she'd been crying, but realized she was sweating despite the fact that the room was cool in the December weather. She ran herself a warm bath to get cleaned up and soaked for a bit. She doubted she would be able to sleep any more. Lucy hopped gracefully onto the edge of the tub and sniffed the bath water cautiously. She must have decided it seemed safe, because she sat and kept Rowan company.

She didn't tell the twins about the dream; it felt important but she wasn't sure they would understand. She wondered if she should tell Professor Dumbledore. She could tell her dad, but she wasn't sure she was ready to speak to him yet.

"Guys, come on, hurry up, we're going to be late!" she called from the living room.

"Hold your bloody hiffogriffs, we're coming!" Fred called back. Five minutes later, the twins emerged wearing ridiculously expensive suits.

She raised an eyebrow, "Flaunting your success?" You couldn't have sent me a memo? Now I'm underdressed," she complained.

George pulled her in for a kiss, "You look perfect."

"Besides, I think Mum likes you better than us anyway," Fred rolled his eyes.

She grinned, "Can you blame her?" Fred scoffed and the three of them left for Christmas at the Burrow.

She sat next to Ginny and across from Harry at dinner and it was difficult to say who was more on edge. Clearly, something had happened between Harry and Ginny and Rowan had kept her distance from Harry because she didn't trust herself to keep the secret. She wanted him to know so badly.

"So, Rowan, how's the student teaching going?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"It's going well; Professor Slughorn is easy to work with and I'm still learning a lot. There've been a few students who give me a hard time, but they were my classmates last year, to be fair." She grinned, "Plus I can dock points now, so I can handle them."

"Do you think it's right for you? Do you like it?" Mrs. Weasley added. George had been grazing her knee with his thumb, which stilled now.

"I think so. It feels good to help someone understand and I'm good at it; at least I think I am," she laughed. "It is difficult to be away from the shop for so long," she conceded. "Believe it or not, but I miss these two prats." Everyone laughed and she squeezed George's hand under the table. She had a feeling he was hoping she wouldn't like teaching. Admittedly, it would make things easier on them; they wouldn't have to be apart all of the time. But she did like it. She couldn't picture herself doing anything else.

By the time the end of the day rolled around, she felt strange. She had never gone a whole Christmas without seeing her father. No matter where she spent it, they always spent some time together. She felt a pang of guilt; maybe she had been too harsh when they'd argued. She wasn't sure he would ever really be happy, but she didn't want him to hate himself. She knew he was deserving of love, even if only from her.

She grabbed his gift, told the twins she would be back, and apparated to Hogsmeade. She was annoyed that she had to be the bigger person, she was the child in this situation, and she definitely felt that she was right, but she would be damned if she let his bitterness win out. He was getting her love whether he wanted it or not.

She marched up to the castle, hoping she wasn't setting off any alarms; she wasn't quite sure how the castle defenses worked. She rapped at his door incessantly until he answered, wrenching the door open and looking ready to throttle whoever dared to disturb him.

She immediately pulled him into a reluctant hug, "Happy Christmas Dad."

"What are you doing here?" he asked coldly.

"It's Christmas. I always see you on Christmas," she replied simply. She held out his gift; he didn't take it.

"You shouldn't be here."

"But I am. You're not gonna chase me away. Ever. You're stuck with me."

He sighed, "I'm not trying to chase you away. I'm trying to protect you."

"Protect me from what?"

"Myself. I've always hurt the people I love. I let them down by being a coward."

"Stop saying that. You're not a coward. And you've never let me down, not once. Whenever I needed you, you were there. You can call yourself whatever you want, I can't stop you, but I'm the one that gets to decide if you're a good dad or not. And I know you are." She crossed her arms and met his gaze defiantly. She would stand here and argue with him all night if she had to.

He looked away, "Thank you."

She grinned victoriously and tried to hand him his gift again. He still refused.

"I don't want anything this year. Whatever it is, keep it."

She rolled her eyes but didn't press it. They'd made progress tonight. She bid him goodbye and as soon as he closed the door behind her, she left the present for him outside his office to find later. It was a lily in a shadowbox, but enchanted. Anyone else who looked at it would only see some bogus potion making award.

She returned to the flat and snuggled up with George in front of the fire. Lucy perched behind them on the back of the sofa and for the first time in a while, she felt whole.

"I almost don't want to go back," she muttered softly.

"You don't have to."

"Well no-"

"You could stay."

"George," she pleaded. "Teaching is what I want to do. I can't do that from here." He sighed. "What do you want me to do?"

"I just want to think about our future. Are we going to spend our whole lives apart? Are we going to live separately if we get married? What if we want to have kids?"

"I don't know George! I don't have all the answers, I'm just trying to find my place in the world, just like you have."

"Do you want those things?" he asked quietly.

"Of course I do," she muttered.

"Look, I'm sorry. I'm not trying to stress you out. I just miss you."

"I miss you too. We'll figure it all out eventually. I promise," she held out her pinky. He took it in his with a wry smile, but she could tell he wasn't entirely convinced.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

After returning to school, it felt like things were moving in double time. Between teaching classes and grading papers, Slug Club meetings that Slughorn coerced her into, tutoring on the side, and practicing more complex magic from books out of the restricted section; time was passing quickly. She proudly watched her students improve in class and in the papers she graded. That feeling was enough for her to know that this was the job for her. She was having fun and she now felt confident that her magic was under control.

The one thing she was worried about was Draco. She'd kept her distance as her father asked, but Draco was looking worse by the day. He was pale, paler than usual even, and he looked thin, like he wasn't eating. She was tempted to write to Narcissa, but she knew she shouldn't get involved.

The end of the year was near when her father roused her from bed in the middle of the night, "Keep the students safe," he ordered.

"What? Where are you going?"

"I have something I need to take care of."

She didn't bother to get dressed, hurrying upstairs in her dressing gown. She followed the sound of shouting and screaming, her heart racing. There were Order members and Death Eaters battling on the stairs and in the corridors. Terrified students caught in the crossfire sought cover, too afraid to run back to their common rooms. She ran past the fighting, ignoring both sides, gathering as many students as she could. She cast a protection charm in a bubble around her huddled group and led them toward the Gryffindor common room, which was closest by.

Fenrir Greyback leapt in front of them and several students shrieked. He growled menacingly and grinned at her, "What have we here?"

"Back off Fenrir. These are students. I have orders to keep them safe."

"Well, I've got nothing of the sort and that one smells of Mudblood," he pointed a claw at a timid first year boy, who flinched.

"If you want to lay a hand on any of them, you'll have to kill me first," she stood her ground. Suddenly, Fenrir was blasted with a hex from Bill Weasley; she hadn't seen him since he left Hogwarts. She gave him a nod and herded the students into the common room and sealed it behind her.

"Don't let anyone through," she called back to the Fat Lady as she darted off. Passing back through the corridor, she caught sight of Bill, pinned under Fenrir. She hesitated only for a moment before blasting Fenrir with enough force to knock him off and hurrying out of sight.

She heard more shouting down the stairs and followed the voices. They burst out the front doors and she followed, catching sight of them sprinting down the hill. It was her father and Harry. She bolted down after them just in time to see Hagrid's cabin burst into flames. There was a flash of light and she caught sight of her father and Harry facing off. Harry was screaming something, but she couldn't make it out. Her father was blocking spell after spell as Draco and the other Death Eaters retreated.

She ran down the hill and plowed into Harry, "Stop! Stop!"

"He killed Dumbledore!" he screamed at her. Her brain went fuzzy; that couldn't be right. Her father wouldn't do that.

"N-no-"

"I saw it!" It was more of a sob than a scream now. She felt numb. She couldn't process what she was hearing; it wouldn't form something coherent in her head.

She heard a whimper; Hagrid was standing over them, a shaking and singed Fang cradled in his arms, "That can't be right." He was in disbelief.

"It's true." Harry seemed to shrivel, "He's gone."

She rose numbly and pointed her wand at Hagrid's cabin, desperate for a distraction from the storm in her brain, "Aguamenti." Harry and Hagrid rose and joined her and together they were able to extinguish the flames.

There was a crowd forming at the edge of the castle, under the astronomy tower; her heart sank. They trudged over and the crowd parted to let them through, tearstained faces watching them with wide eyes. In the very center of the circle was Professor Dumbledore. She felt a sob escape and suddenly she couldn't see through the tears. Her father had done this. She kept closing her eyes, hoping that when she opened them, there would be a different picture. But it didn't change. She trudged through the castle, repairing damage and scourgifying blood from the cobblestones. Footsteps approached and she turned to find Professor McGonagall.

"You're still here," it was a statement, but the question behind it was, "Why?" Clearly, she knew more than she had ever let on.

"I-" she choked on her words, "I wasn't a part of this plan. I didn't know, I swear-"

"I believe you. Fifteen students are safe because of you. You aren't one of them. Your father-"

"I can't defend what he's done." That was true. She didn't believe he had killed Dumbledore out of malice or selfishness, but she couldn't think of any scenario that made sense. She couldn't defend him. "I don't know where to go from here, Professor," she confessed tearfully. "I don't want to do this anymore."

McGonagall put a hand on her shoulder, "I know it's difficult. But Professor Dumbledore is- was, a wise man. I'm sure if you think hard enough, he gave you a clue. Just know that no matter what you must do, I know who you are."

The funeral was beautiful. The sunshine seemed to mock their grief, but the overwhelming respect and admiration was palpable. He left a void that no one could fill. There was what seemed like endless talking, even the mer-people paid their respects. She felt an overwhelming sense of guilt, like she'd killed him herself.

After it was over, she waited for Harry. He talking to Ginny and she had a sinking feeling she knew what was going on. Ginny walked away alone and she gestured for Harry to come over.

"I have something to tell you. I don't know if I'll be back next year-"

"I don't think I will be," he cut in. He didn't offer more than that. She couldn't blame him for withholding; what she had to say next likely wouldn't help either.

"I have to go with my dad." As she suspected, he looked angry. "It's what Dumbledore asked me to do." She took a breath, "I've been playing both sides the whole time. I knew my Dad was a Death Eater. This is my fault," her voice cracked. There was a small part of her that believed that.

"It's not."

"Regardless, I have to keep doing it. It's what he wanted."

"Why are you telling me this?" he asked, confused.

She shook her head, "I'm getting off topic, that wasn't what I needed to tell you." She sighed, "I'm your half-sister. Lily was my mum."

"No. That doesn't make any sense-"

"I know it probably doesn't. But it's true. Dumbledore told me." He shook his head in disbelief, "I know it sounds crazy, but look at my eyes. They're shaped like my dad's but they're the exact same color as yours. I look like her."

"Why wouldn't he tell me?"

"I only found out this year and it was because I figured it out on my own. I'm sorry I didn't tell you-"

"He asked you to keep it a secret from me," he finished. She nodded. He was quiet, processing. She had left out the backstory; how it happened, her father's love for Lily. It wouldn't lend to her credibility and it was likely hollow consolation, if not salt in the wound.

"I need you to keep it all a secret; no one can know about my allegiance, even if it makes me look like a bad guy."

"Not even George?"

She paused; she had to keep him safe, "Not even George." With that, she stood, "Good luck little brother." She went into the castle, packed her things, and left for Malfoy Manor.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

It was eerily quiet at the manor; for some reason she was expecting a party. She left her things in the foyer and went into the dining hall; empty. She tiptoed to the study and heard voices within. She knocked anxiously and waited, not quite ready to face what was inside.

"Enter," a voice from within dictated. She got a slight feeling of déjà vu as she walked in to see her father and the Dark Lord. "Ah, Rowan, excellent timing. I was just offering your father the position of Headmaster; I hear there is an opening," he smirked.

"That's wonderful, congratulations Dad," she forced a smile. It took everything she had not to vomit right then and there.

"And for you, a commendation. I hear you have Horace Slughorn wrapped around your little finger. He should be a rather easy target once I have need of his services."

"Thank you, my Lord. Pardon my asking, but where is everyone?"

"Why, out celebrating of course!" His grin widened. "Now you two should go join them; we will have much to discuss next time we meet." They wouldn't be celebrating. With Death Eaters, celebration meant that muggles, people, were getting hurt. Her stomach lurched.

She followed her father out of the study and grabbed her things. He gave her a pointed look and disappeared. She followed and met him in the kitchen at home. She tried to meet his gaze, but instead burst into tears.

"I can explain-"

"How?" She sobbed; her father had killed the greatest wizard of all time and she had to find a way to be okay with it or else everything they'd done was for nothing. "I don't want to do this anymore!"

"Do you truly believe that I did this for selfish reasons? That this is what I wanted?"

"No, but-"

"Professor Dumbledore asked me to be the one to do it. He was already dying and in end the end, it had to be me or Draco. He thought Draco could still be saved."

"That was Draco's task this year? To kill Dumbledore?"

"It's likely that The Dark Lord thought that Draco would fail and it would serve as a way to punish Lucius. But here we are."

"My friends, the Weasley's, George; they're all going to hate me. I can't hide my involvement as a Death Eater anymore. Sticking with you in damning in their eyes," she muttered thickly.

"Sometimes the people we love know us better than we know ourselves. Don't count them out." He was paraphrasing what she'd said to him at Christmas. She sniffled. He said firmly, "It's not going to be easy."

"I know."

She wrote to George that summer. She sent him maybe one letter a week, but she wrote more. The ones she held onto: those were the ones that explained everything she wanted him to know. Mostly she wrote them so she could reassure herself that it made sense when she said it out loud. He never wrote her back. He probably hated her. She wished she knew if he was reading them; maybe he just threw them away. But she told him that she loved him and missed him terribly. She hoped he was doing well; she hoped everyone was doing well.

The only one who had written her that summer was Harry, which felt strange. They caught each other up on all of the little things. Her told her about his life with his aunt and uncle; her aunt and uncle, and he asked for advice about Ginny. He wasn't sure if he had made the right decision. She had practically made the same call when it came to George, so she reassured him as best as she could. She answered his questions about growing up with her dad, which must have meant his curiosity outweighed his hatred.

He wrote her after his birthday and told her about Mad-Eye's death and George's ear. She had nearly had a panic attack then; hyperventilating and yelling. Her father had to hold her back, kicking and screaming, from leaving for the Burrow right then. She sent George a letter every day that week. She kept all the other letters in a box, hoping he would read them someday.

She couldn't sleep the night before the first day of school. She wasn't ready to face rejection from everyone she loved. She didn't want to see Neville and Ginny and Ron and Hermione; she could see the looks of disgust on their faces already.

She had dark shadows under her eyes the next morning and she sighed in the mirror. Her father raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. She skipped breakfast and anxiously took her father's arm when it was time to leave. Inside the castle, she scurried down to the dungeons to unpack before she could run until anyone she knew. The students weren't due for several more hours, but she was even intimidated by the professors. The transition from student to teacher had already been strange and now she was a traitor. There was no way to know how much they knew about what was going on.

At dinner, she scanned the Great Hall; no Harry. No Ron or Hermione either. She quickly put her head down before anyone could catch her eye. The Carrows, Alecto and Amycus, were seated at the staff table, flanking her father, who now sat in the center. In Dumbledore's old seat. She was now sandwiched between Slughorn and Professor Sprout. There was no welcome speech and no introduction for the Carrows either. Amycus was teaching Defense Against the Darks arts, which would now be just Dark Arts and Alecto was teaching Muggle Studies, which was now compulsory. They had also laid claim to the school's discipline; she had heard them talking about their plans, some of which would have made even Filch feel guilty.

There was a dull murmur as students discusses the changes with one another; far from the usual roar of chatter and laughter. The staff table was silent, aside from the Carrows. They were rowdy and crass; she was surprised they were the ones the Dark Lord had chosen for this job. She thought he had more respect for the school than that, although it served to benefit him if there was chaos in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

She shoveled her food in, eager to return to the safety of her office. In hindsight, it would have been smarter to slip out in the crowd at the end of the feast. She practically ran through the entrance hall, but she heard the creak of the large door behind her.

"Hey!" Ginny had followed her out. For a brief second, she was temped to run, but that wouldn't save her forever.

"Hi Ginny," she tried to sound normal.

"'Hi Ginny?' That's all you have to say?"

"I-"

"'Hi Ginny?' After you betrayed us? After you broke my brother's heart? After everything?" She sounded more hurt than angry, "You were family." She couldn't think of anything to say that would make any of it better without risking everything.

"I'm sorry."

Ginny stared at her accusingly, "Me too." She turned on heel and headed back into the Great Hall. Rowan was about to return to the dungeons when she had an idea; it wasn't her most moral idea, but what did she have to lose? She stepped down a deserted corridor, which was easy when everyone was still at the feast, and she transformed. She stepped out into the entrance hall as her sleek back cat and darted up the stairs. She couldn't be close to her friends as herself, but she could be as a cat.

She hurried all the way up to the seventh floor and waited outside the portrait hole for the feast to finish. Not long after, there was a stamped of footsteps as a hoard of Gryffindors climbed the staircase. She slipped into the common room with the crowd, careful not to get under any of the many feet. She trotted around the common room, dodging reaching hands and kept an eye out for Ginny. Finally, she spotted Ginny's flaming hair flopping onto one of the sofas next to Neville. She was talking animatedly, clearly complaining. Rowan hurried over and leapt onto the back of the sofa and listened.

"-I mean really, even if she really was a Death Eater all this time, I thought she really like George. Sorry Neville," she grimaced. "But she didn't even write him to tell him she wasn't coming home!" But she had written George. "He said she didn't write him all summer; the poor guy is heartbroken." What had happened to her letters to George?

Neville made a face, "I just don't buy it. You're sure she's been one of them the whole time?"

"The twins said she used to disappear to 'spend time with her Dad' a lot last summer. And she's always been close to Draco's mum. She couldn't have not known about either of them; and I doubt You-Know-Who is the type to allow people to stay neutral. There's no other explanation," Ginny sighed. "I didn't want to believe it either. Mum was devastated. George is still in a bit of denial I reckon. He insists he knows her better than that, but why else wouldn't she write him?" Neville was quiet.

She wanted to hear more, but she needed to figure out what had happened to her letters. The sinking feeling in her chest told her she already knew. She hopped down off the sofa and wove her way back through the common room. She changed back to herself and sprinted down to the third floor.

"Dumbledore," she nearly shouted at the gargoyle. It didn't move. She shouted up the staircase, "If you don't let me up there right now, I'm going to shout everything I have to say right here!" No response. "I know you can hear me, you great bloody git! Why would you stop my letters?" The gargoyle stepped aside and she tapped her foot as she ascended. She barged in without knocking, her face red and her fists clenched, "Why would you-"

"Are you mental? Do you have a death wish?" he demanded angrily.

"Maybe I do! What else do I have left if not George? If not my friends? Why would you stop my letters?"

"It wasn't safe."

"I don't bloody care! I love him! I don't care if I'm safe if he hates me!" Tears were spilling over now.

"We don't always get what we want, Rowan."

"Right! You didn't get what you wanted so you blew it all to Hell! And now I have to lose the love of _my_ life because you couldn't have yours!" She knew it was unwarranted; she could never beat him up about his mistakes more than he had himself, but it felt good to get it off her chest.

He pulled a thick bundle of letters out of his desk and tossed them over to her, "Here. Send them if you like. But if something happens to him, you have to live with that. Believe me when I say; you don't want to."

She ran all the way back to her chambers and cradled the stack of letters in her bed and sobbed She wouldn't be able to live with herself if something happened to George, especially because of her. Hating her was better than dead. She stiffened her resolve and tossed the bundle in the fire, watching the words shrivel into ash.

She sat at her desk and wrote George one final letter. She told him she loved him and to tell her family that she loved them too. She apologized for hurting everyone and disappointing them. She explained everything as best as she could and told him that she hoped everything would work out in the end. She told him that she wanted him to be happy no matter what happened; even if that meant it was with someone else.

Sealing it with wax, she wrote his name on it in curly script and tucked it inside her lockbox, beside the letter from her mother and the photo of the house in Spinner's End. She took off the promise ring George had given her and tucked it inside alongside the letter before locking it back up. She hoped that if anything happened to her, the letter would find its way into his hands.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

The next few weeks were tense, to say the least. The Carrows were wreaking havoc on the school; they undermined the other professors, they threatened students, and were generally horrible to be around. She hated them.

Students in class no longer trusted her; they didn't ask for help when she offered it and directed their questions to Professor Slughorn, who also avoided her eyes. People stopped talking when she entered rooms and she got dirty looks in the hallways. She spent more nights than she cared to admit perched near her friends' shoulders in the common room. She missed them. She couldn't remember ever feeling so lonely in her life.

Shortly before Christmas, there was a knock at her office door. Her heart thumped; no one ever came to her office, not anymore. She cracked the door; it was Neville. She opened it a bit wider.

"Hi," she said softly.

"Hi," he seemed nervous.

"Did someone send you down here on a dare or something? A test to see if you get infected with the evil?"

"No! Can I come in?" He looked around anxiously.

She sighed, "I s'pose." She opened the door and let him in before closing it firmly. "What do you want?" He looked taken aback. "I'm sorry," she said quickly. "I've been on edge lately."

His resolve seemed to stiffen, "Because you're not one of them."

"What? Didn't you get the memo Neville? I've always been one of them. I betrayed you guys, right from the start," she folded her arms in front of her so her hands wouldn't shake.

He shook his head, "I don't believe it. I know you and I've been paying attention. Malfoy, the Carrows, they're cocky and confident. The Carrows are downright gleeful. But you don't talk anymore. You keep your head down and you never smile. You're miserable." She would have been impressed if she wasn't so afraid of being outed.

"Whatever you think you know; you're wrong. I'll admit, I'm a little depressed because everyone hates me, but this was my choice. I stand by it." He stared at her; she couldn't tell what he was thinking.

"Anyway, that's not what I came here for," he said finally.

"Then what did you come here for?" she huffed.

"I need tutoring. I want to pass my N.E.W.T.s."

"You aren't even taking a N.E.W.T. in Potions-"

"Don't pretend like you aren't good at everything," he raised an eyebrow. "I'm struggling with Transfiguration. Professor McGonagall isn't very patient these days," he smiled wryly.

She paused, "Fine. But only you. I'm not starting my sessions again. I'm done."

"Fine," he raised his hands in surrender.

"Fine."

"See you…" he trailed off.

"Tuesday evenings, starting after break. Seven o'clock. Don't be late." She ushered him out the door.

"Rowan?"

"What?"

"Thanks." She closed the door without replying. She was very close to coming undone. She sniffled a little, mistakenly thinking that Neville wouldn't hear on the other side of the door.

She went to London over the holiday. She needed to get out of the house. She was shopping for a Christmas gift for George, even though she didn't know when or if she would be able to give it to him. She saw a few muggle inventions she would have loved to get for him, but she was sure the game was over by now. She passed the shop where George had tried to buy her the giant bear; he still rested in the window and she had an idea.

She bought it and lugged it all the way to Diagon Alley; getting some strange looks on her way through the Leaky Cauldron, although she wasn't sure if it was the bear or her newfound Death Eater status. She paid a kid a galleon to take it to the joke shop for her and leave it. It might have been a little reckless, but she had been cooped up and alone for so long that she was feeling a little out of control. She stayed away from Diagon Alley for the rest of break; she didn't trust herself to stay away from the shop after that.

She spent the rest of break resuming her exploration of London. She noted the locations of bowling alleys, dance clubs, restaurants, even a muggle joke shop; she was cataloging places she wanted to take George if she ever got the chance again.

After break, Tuesday evenings became her night to look forward to. It was nice to see Neville, but mostly she just needed some kind of human interaction. One Tuesday in February, Neville showed up with a timid-looking first year boy. The boy looked at her like she was a ghoul. She raised an eyebrow at Neville.

"I know you said only me, but Remy really needs help with Charms," Neville went pink. "I thought you might be able to help him."

"We'll see how it goes," she replied coolly. She knew she couldn't bring herself to turn him away and Neville knew it too. Remy hadn't spoken for the whole session, but at the end he stuttered out a shaky thank you.

"See you boys next week then?" she asked loftily. Neville practically beamed.

As the term went on, Neville snuck more and more kids into her session; he knew she wouldn't turn them away. A great many kids were struggling; which was no surprise considering the climate at the school.

She pulled him aside after one session; there had been nearly twenty kids crammed in her office tonight, "You're capitalizing on my kindness, Longbottom. I feel like I've been set up for some strange reason."

He grinned at her," Feels good doesn't it?"

"Is this all some plot to bring me back over to the 'good side?'"

"I don't need to bring you back to the good side; you never left." She rolled her eyes. "I just wanted to see you smile again. Helping those kids makes you look like yourself again."

"Get out of my office Longbottom." It took all she had not to smile.

He left and she sat on her bed; if the Dark Lord found out she was teaching kids Defense Against the Dark Arts; she would be done for. She found herself unable to care. She wouldn't give herself up again.

She wanted to see George so badly that it hurt. Everyone was gone now and she felt tendrils of loneliness creeping back in and twisting around her limbs. She stood and hurried to the fourth floor; she wasn't sure if her idea would work, but she had to try. She paced back and forth thinking, "I need to see George, I need to see George, I need to see George." The door appeared and she opened it with a trembling hand. Inside was a tall mirror with a strange inscription around the top. It was ornate and looked strangely out of place in the bare room. Puzzled, she stood in front of it.

At first, she only saw herself, but then George appeared next to her. Her own reflection faded and she could see the Burrow in the background. George was lounging on the sofa, tinkering with some merchandise. Her eyes welled up; she kept the photo Fred had taken of them in her pocket, but this was different. This was him, right now.

He looked tired. Someone shouted something in the background and he turned his head; she caught a glimpse of where his ear had been and gasped. It was really gone. She told herself to look on the bright side; he was okay and there were many jokes to be made. Then she realized that she had likely missed all of that. She found herself crying again, which she was rather tired of. She sat there for hours until George turned in for the night.

She went back every night that week and saw George. She knew that maybe it was invasive and a little strange, but she felt reassured to see his face and hear his voice; to know he was okay.

Friday night she heard Mrs. Weasley in the background, "George, your date is here!" Her heart stopped as Melanie stepped into view.

"Georgie no!" she called out impulsively. George's eyes snapped up; it seemed like he was looking right at her.

"Did you hear that?" he asked frantically.

"Hear what?" Melanie tittered. Rowan clapped a hand over her mouth and ran from the room. She couldn't go back now.

She tried to convince herself that it was for the best; George could be happy. But a small part of her had assumed they would be together again. She couldn't believe that Melanie was at the Weasley's for dinner; as George's date. She had hoped he would believe in her long enough to figure this out. She knew it was too much to expect, but she'd had hope.

Now, after this was all over, if it was ever over, what did she have to go back to? If felt like her life was over. She knew she had to keep fighting; for her students, her friends, and for George, but she no longer cared what happened to her.

Her tutoring sessions became so large that they had to relocate to the Room of Requirement; her office wasn't big enough. Plus, now that there were so many of them, it was risky to have so much traffic going in and out of the dungeons. She might not care what happened to her, but she wouldn't put her students in danger. Although, it seemed that they were in danger no matter what she did. Students who stood up the Carrows were getting beaten on; they turned up bruised and bloody, looking for a safe place to hide. Neville had been so outspoken about their cruelty and disgusting teaching that they had planned to remove him from Hogwarts permanently. So, her tutoring room became a safe house for a good majority of the old Dumbledore's Army. Still, when the portrait over the mantle in the Room of Requirement opened up during her session, she shoved everyone to the edges of the room with the wave of her wand and poised herself to fight. She blinked a couple of times when a head of shaggy black hair emerged.

"Harry!" She and Neville rushed forward to help him through, "What are you doing here?"

"We're looking for something." She embraced Ron and Hermione and felt an overwhelming sense of relief at friendly faces.

"What are you looking for?" she asked.

"It's sort of a secret. It's for Dumbledore-"

"Then I'll be right back."

"Where are you going?" Neville demanded.

"The Carrows will know Harry is here if they set off the alarm in Hogsmeade. I'm going to intercept them; Harry needs all the time to search that I can give him."

"Let me come with you," he made to follow her.

She narrowed her eyes, "Someone needs to protect the kids. And I can handle myself; the Carrows are mine." Neville stepped back.

"Bloody Hell Rowan, that was terrifying," Ron observed, looking rather impressed.

"It's been a rough year. If something happens to me; tell your stupid brother that I love him."

She hurried through the corridors and managed to intercept Alecto by the kitchens; she was likely checking common rooms for Harry.

"Snape, Potter is in the castle somewhere, help us find him! The Dark Lord will be so pleased with us," she mused eagerly.

Rowan set her jaw; this was it, "I know he's in the castle you dimwitted twat. I helped him get in." Realization flashed across Alecto's face and she raised her wand, but it was too late. Her arms and legs snapped to her sides and Alecto crashed to the floor, her wand rattling beside her. Rowan stomped on it, snapping it in two, "You're a disgrace to the wizarding world."


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

She hurried back upstairs to look for Amycus, but she could hear the sound of a thousand feet. The students were moving to the Great Hall. She sidled inside, where all eyes, human and ghost, were on Professor McGonagall. Her father was nowhere to be seen. She detailed plans for evacuation; anyone of age could stay and fight if they wished.

A girl from the Slytherin asked where Professor Snape was and Rowan listened anxiously; he had fled. The majority of the school cheered, but she wasn't sure if she felt relieved or afraid; he might be in more danger with the Dark Lord than he was at Hogwarts.

Suddenly, the voice of the Dark Lord echoed throughout the large hall, "Your intention to fight is admirable but unwise. You cannot stop me. I do not wish to spill magical blood. Give me Harry Potter and your lives will be spared. You have until midnight."

Pansy Parkinson rose from the Slytherin table, "There he is! Someone grab him!" There was an echoing of feet as all three other houses stood, wands raised. Professor McGonagall dismissed the Slytherins then and ushered out all of the underage students attempting to stay behind. She helped to escort the students out; eager to get all of the kids out of harm's way.

She checked her watch; it was nearly midnight, but there was one more thing she wanted to do before everything went to hell. She hurried down to her office and scrambled to open her lockbox. She yanked out her letter to George, desperately hoping that this would work. She not only had to transport the letter, but she had to make sure it got through the defenses that surely surrounded the Burrow. She closed her eyes and focused on George, putting everything she could muster into it; she needed that letter to get to him.

When she opened her eyes, it was gone. She hoped it had worked but there was no time to dwell on it. She slipped her ring from George back on her finger and ran upstairs, where the fight had begun without her. She tore through, blasting away every Death Eater in her path.

"Snape!" a voice called out to her; it was McNair. She raised her wand and savored the look of surprise on his face, but she was smashed into from the side. She felt her wand snap beneath the body on top of her and the air was forced out of her lungs. Gray fur clouded her vision; Greyback.

"I knew you helped that Weasley scum," he growled in her ear. "The Dark Lord doesn't take kindly to traitors. Just wait 'til I get my teeth around that boyfriend of yours; will you still think he's handsome when he's got no ears left?" She let out a piercing shriek and Fenrir was blasted off of her. She lifted him into the air and smashed him into McNair; wand or no wand, she would show these Death Eaters who she really was.

Wait; did that mean George was here? She took off back into the fray; passing Order members and Death Eaters alike. If George was here, that meant he was in danger. She heard a familiar laugh down a corridor and rounded a corner just in time to see a green jet of light heading for a stocky boy with red hair as if in slow motion.

She heard, "-you're actually joking!" before a scream was ripped from her and a pulse of energy burst out from her core. The blast disintegrated the spell midair and knocked the Death Eater who cast it off, along with the others nearby, off their feet.

"Confringo!" she screamed. The man burst into flames and began shrieking. She felt no remorse this time, even as he stumbled in his panic and tumbled through a large broken window. There was a white haze clouding her vision and she realized numbly that she had been floating off the ground as her feet touched back down.

"Rowan!" A voice called her name and it wasn't the twin she had been looking at. George crashed into her and kissed her fiercely.

"Bloody Hell, thanks for saving me and all, but we're in the middle of a war here!" Fred called out. She flipped him the bird and clutched George desperately.

"You don't hate me?" She blinked back tears.

"Of course not, you dork. I love you," he grinned at her.

"What about-"

"Can we maybe do this later?" Fred exclaimed. She nodded reluctantly and George took her hand. She noticed Percy standing in the wings; he gave her a curt nod. The window where the Death Eater had fallen suddenly burst open as giant spiders crawled through.

"Looks like Aragog's kids have joined the fight!" she heard a voice behind them call out. Three jets of light blasted into one of the larger spiders and knocked it back out of the gaping hole in the wall. It was Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"Harry, did you find what you were looking for?" she asked urgently.

"Yes-" A great chunk of ceiling fell down and dust shook from the ceiling.

"We have to go!" Ron shouted.

The pack of them rushed down to the next floor where the fight was still raging, spells flying through the air. She saw Draco and Goyle; Draco was pleading with a masked Death Eater, who didn't seem to believe that Draco was one of them. A red jet of light shot out from beside her, but when she looked, Harry was gone. She and the three Weasleys blasted every Death Eater in sight until they heard heavy footfalls crashing down the stairs.

Hagrid's voice emanated, "Don't hurt 'em!" Then there was a loud crash as half the wall of the castle was ripped off to reveal a giant, reaching for someone on an upper floor. There was a bloodcurdling shriek and Grawp bounded down the stairs, clearly looking for Hagrid until he caught sight of the giant. He yelled and changed course, the two of them grappling.

"We need to get out of the way or we'll be crushed!" Percy yelled over the noise.

She nodded her agreement and they sprinted in the other direction until a cold chill crept in on them. She remembered her fourth year, when the dementors were stationed at the school; it was that exact chill.

With an electric shock, she was sucked into a memory; her mother bundling her up and giving her a letter and a photo; the photo of her father's house, which now resided in her jewelry box back in her bedroom at home. Lily was crying as she raised her wand and there was a flash of light. Then Rowan found herself in the woody area, alone and afraid, but with the strange knowledge of which way to go. Tears silently glided down her face as she struggled to remember, but came up with nothing.

"Rowan!" She was pulled back to the present; Hermione, Ron, Harry, Luna, Ernie MacMillan, and Seamus Finnigan were around them, wands raised. George had her by the shoulders, trying to snap her out of it.

"I'm okay," she reassured him.

"We need to go; you don't have a wand-"

"Don't need one," she said firmly. Now she could hear the rattled breathing, the sucking vortex approaching them. Countless dementors approached them; looming closer. She heard Hermione call out to Harry, but she was focused. She thought about George's hand in her own right now, his laughing face when she'd told a joke at the flat, their first kiss, that first Christmas at the Burrow when he helped her put the star on the tree.

She squeezed his hand and raised her other, "Expecto Patronum!" The others did the same. Silvery animals bounded all around; her fox, George's coyote, Fred's hyena, Luna's rabbit, Hermione's otter, Ron's dog, Seamus' fox, Ernie's boar, and finally Harry's stag. Percy was a bit pink in the face as the only one whose patronus was non-corporeal, but he hadn't had the luxury of being a part of Dumbledore's Army. They didn't have time to celebrate the victory as another giant lumbered toward them.

"RUN!" someone shouted. Everyone scattered and she followed Harry; assuming that George was with her.

"Where are we going?" she called out.

"Rowan, what are you doing?"

"I'm running, what the bloody hell does it look like I'm doing?" She suddenly realized that George was no longer with her; her throat tightened. If anything happened to him-

She followed the trio down under the Whomping Willow, wondering dimly where they could be going. They emerged in a decrepit house where voices emanated from the room directly ahead of them. She flattened herself against the wall and watched numbly as Harry, Ron and Hermione disappeared, crouching under an invisibility cloak.

Her father was trying to convince the Dark Lord to allow him to track down Harry; how ironic, considering that Harry was right here.

"Why doesn't the wand work for me?" The Dark Lord asked. Her father stuttered out his confusion, but the Dark Lord continued. "It hasn't done what it promised." His voice was calm, but she knew enough to feel the controlled rage behind it. The Dark Lord didn't like it when things didn't work as he wanted them to.

Her father pleaded to be allowed to return to the battle; what if Harry was killed by someone else? "I have told you, no!" The Dark Lord lost his patience. However, he carried on. His previous wands had failed him, even after seeking Ollivander's advice. "The wand will not serve me, because I am not it's true master. That title," he paused, "belongs to you Severus. You killed Albus Dumbledore. While you are living, the Elder Wand will not be mine."

"My Lord!" She heard her father protest and realized too late was what happening.

There was a rattle and she heard a soft hiss before a horrible squelching sound. Her hand flew to cover her mouth before a sob leaked out; she couldn't reveal them, not with Harry here, or it would all be for nothing. Still, tears leaked out and she couldn't stop them.

"I regret it," the Dark Lord said simply. There was another rattle and a heavy thud and the overwhelming presence in the room disappeared; the Dark Lord was gone.

With a desperate shove, she moved aside some debris and hurled herself into the next room, Harry on her heels, "Dad! Daddy, no! No, no, no, no, no." She tried to prop him up, her heart racing. "Daddy you can't die," she cried. He weakly held up a hand to stop her and cupped her chin.

"I love you," his breath was gurgling and his voice weak, barely audible.

"I love you too. I love you Daddy, please don't leave me," she sobbed.

Her father lifted his eyes to Harry and he pleaded, "Harry." Harry bent over and her father pulled him close, "Take it." A silvery substance leaked from her father's wounds, which Harry guided into a flask pressed into his shaking hands by Hermione.

Her father went slack and Harry stepped back. She pressed her robes desperately to the wounds in her father's neck to stop the bleeding, though she knew it would do no good.

"Don't leave me, please," she pleaded.

He raised his hand to her cheek, "Look at me," he asked, barely at a whisper now.

She gazed into his eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks. She remembered the first time she'd gazed into those eyes. She had thought they were empty and cold and scary. Now she could see the faint light inside of them when he looked at her; it was love. His hand fell from her cheek and the light went out.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

She clutched his body for some time after that; she didn't know how long. She couldn't leave him. Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood behind her quietly until the Dark Lord's voice rang out once again. They all jumped, thinking he had returned to the room.

"You've all fought bravely. I value this. But you have suffered many losses and if you continue to resist, you will suffer more. I don't wish to see any more magical blood spilled. I command my forces to retreat. You have one hour to dispose of your dead and treat your injured.

I speak now to you Harry Potter. You've allowed brave souls to fight and die for you, now face me yourself. If after the hour is up, you haven't given yourself up, the battle will continue and more will die." She heard Hermione and Ron trying to convince Harry that he shouldn't go. She knew their attempts were in vain; Harry wouldn't let any more people die if he could stop it. He had to face him. They trudged back to the castle, dimly aware of the corpses littering the grounds. The entrance hall was destroyed; Slytherin emeralds spilling across the floor and blood staining the stone.

The Great Hall was empty of tables and full of people. The dead were lined up in the middle of the hall, the injured were being treated, and the living stood huddled in trembling groups. They caught sight of the Weasleys and hurried over, counting frantically. Seven, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Percy, Fred, George, and Ginny. They were all okay. Mrs. Weasley was weeping and clutching her children.

As Ron approached, Mrs. Weasley let out a wail and pulled him in, "You're all okay!" she wept. Rowan glanced at Harry and Hermione and followed Harry's line of sight to the floor where Remus and Tonks lay, in line with the dead. She remembered when Tonks had come to Hogwarts; Rowan had thought she was the coolest person on the planet. Her heart ached, but she thought she might be out of tears.

Mrs. Weasley yanked her into a fierce hug, "You saved Fred's life."

"I, er-"

"I'm sorry I doubted you. We all are," she said firmly.

"It kept you all safe. That's what matters," She moved to hug Hermione too and Rowan numbly realized that Harry was gone. It was George's turn to yank her into a fierce hug.

"I was so worried-"

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"When you disappeared I-" She found herself clutching tightly to George and crying again, wracked with fresh grief for her father. "Ro? Are you okay? Why are you covered in blood? What happened?"

"My dad-" she choked out. "He's-"

George pulled her in even closer, "I'm so sorry." She didn't know how long they stood there. The other Weasley's drifted off to find others that needed help, but she and George sank to the floor and he held her in his lap until the Dark Lord's voice rang out once more.

"Harry Potter is dead. Your hero is gone. Anyone who continues to resist will be slaughtered. Come out of the castle, kneel before me, and you shall be allowed to live."

She and George joined the crowd pressing out the front door and they heard a shriek as Professor McGonagall caught sight of the same thing they did. Hagrid's shackled form towered over all of the remaining Death Eaters, wracked with sobs, clutching; her breath caught, Harry. She had a moment of sudden clarity, swallowed her grief and shoved her way to the front, George's hand still clutched in hers. There were exclamations throughout the crowd as everyone saw Harry's body. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were easily distinguishable; they broke her heart, but she knew the fight wasn't over yet.

She reached the front and the Dark Lord let out a soft tsk, "Ah, Rowan." He acted surprised, "I did hope that you were smarter than this." He clucked his tongue, "Disappointing. Your father-"

"Don't you dare speak of my father!" she snarled.

"Your father made a sacrifice, a loyal-"

"You murdered him! But you still haven't figured it out, have you? He wasn't loyal to you! He wasn't from the moment you set your sights on my mum!"

"He was attached to the Mudblood, yes, but Severus Snape-"

"Severus Snape was my father. He loved her and he loved me. We'd been working against you from the very beginning. You'll never understand why, but it will be your downfall, that I can promise you, My Lord," she put all the malice she could in the title. A cheer rose up behind her.

"Silence! Snape's loyalty in inconsequential now because he is dead. And since it appears that you would like to join him, I'll happily oblige-"

"No!" Neville interrupted and lunged forward to stand in front of her. There was a flash and a grunt as Neville was knocked to the ground.

"Wonderful! A volunteer to show everyone what happens to those who wish to continue the fight," the Dark Lord seemed to be relishing this; he thought the battle was already won.

Bellatrix cackled from the ranks, "That's Neville Longbottom my Lord, Miss Snape's little pet who had given the Carrows so much trouble!" Neville struggled back to his feet.

"I remember," the Dark Lord looked pensive, "But you are a pureblood, are you not boy?"

"So what if I am?" Neville shouted defiantly.

"You come from a strong and pure family and you show bravery. You would be valuable as one of our ranks."

"I'll join you when hell freezes over! Dumbledore's Army" Neville raised a fist and another cheer rose up behind them. The Dark Lord's magic couldn't seem to keep them quiet.

"Very well Neville Longbottom," the Dark Lord waved his wand and there was a shattering sound as the battered Sorting Hat soared out of the castle and into his hand. "There will be no more sorting here. Slytherin should suffice for everyone, don't you think?"

He pointed at Neville, who grew rigid, and forced the hat onto his head. The Death Eaters raised their wands to keep the crowd at bay as the hat slipped over Neville's eyes and the Dark Lord flicked his wand. The hat burst into flames and Neville with it.

"Neville!" she screamed.

She extinguished Neville with a wave of her hand and the Dark Lord snarled, "Nagaini, kill!" The snake lunged at her and she heard George gasp and the quick shing of metal before a heavy thud. Neville was brandishing the Sword of Gryffindor and the giant snake's corpse was laying on the ground between the two sides.

The Dark Lord let out a piercing scream and pointed his wand at Neville, "Avada Kevadra!"

"No!" This time she felt herself rise off the ground, the air swirling around her like a vortex. She felt something shatter inside her and clear focus surged through her; this was her purpose. Raw magical energy crackled at her fingertips. With a wave of her hand, a force field knocked down the Death Eater lines and the Dark Lord himself staggered. "Isn't it ironic my Lord? You had the most powerful weapon in this war right under your nose this entire time," she taunted.

She pointed and a bolt of lightning struck down on him. He screamed and sent a counter-strike, lifting the rubble and pelting her with it, but it only bounced off the bubble that surrounded her and those near her. She flung out her palm and a column of fire blasted toward him, which he deflected at the last second.

"Harry! Where's Harry?" Hagrid was shouting. She didn't have time to look, chaos was reigning. The centaurs had burst from the forest and were scattering Death Eaters and Grawp had emerged from the other side of the castle and caught sight of Hagrid and the other giants. Their wrestling forced everyone slowly back into the castle and the battle resumed. Inside the entrance hall was insanity, more people joining the fight; families of those in the fight, the Hogsmeade shopkeepers, even Professor Slughorn had returned. The house elves emerged from down below, wielding kitchen tools as weapons, led by none other than Kreacher. She caught sight of Narcissa and Lucius sprinting through the battle, searching desperately for Draco.

Professor McGonagall, Kingsley, and Slughorn had taken over her fight with the Dark Lord. She had descended back to the ground and looked on in horror as more from both sides continued to fall. The numbers were in their favor now, but how many more would die? She realized that maybe she was never meant to be a weapon after all; maybe she was a defense.

She began casting protection spells left and right, encasing everyone in strange magical bubbles. A spell whizzed in between her and Ginny as she hurried to her, Hermione, and Luna, who were locked in battle with Bellatrix. It was inches from both of them.

She quickly put the girls under protection, but she was nearly knocked over as Mrs. Weasley came barreling through, "Not my daughter's you bitch!" She and Bellatrix began hurling spells at each other. Rowan moved to protect her, but Mrs. Weasley shrieked at anyone who approached to help, "Get back! She's mine!" The rest of the battle was at a standstill; everyone was watching the two battles- but where was Harry? A spell whizzed right by Mrs. Weasley's head and Rowan couldn't stand it any longer; she cast her spell on Mrs. Weasley and shouted an apology as she took over the fight.

Bellatrix grinned cruelly at her, "I guess someone's afraid of losing her blood-traitor Mommy and her Daddy." Rowan had always hated that stupid baby voice.

"It's over Bellatrix! You've lost! You're finished!"

"I'm not finished until you've joined your traitor father in Hell!" she screamed. "Avada Kevadra!" Rowan raised a hand to block the spell, but her self-control lapsed and she was a bit over-zealous. Instead of absorbing the spell, the shield deflected it. She watched as it bounced off and hit Bellatrix square in the chest. She crumpled to the ground.

The Dark Lord screamed; Professor McGonagall, Kingsley, and Slughorn were all thrown back and the Dark Lord turned to her, his wand raised. She turned to face him but in between the two of them, Harry suddenly appeared.

"Harry's alive!" People shouted, until they were suddenly silenced. It was deathly quiet as Harry and the Dark Lord circled each other.

"No one else try to help. It's got to be the two of us," Harry directed.

"You don't mean that, do you Potter; who will be your shield today? Your sister?" He jerked his head toward Rowan.

"Not today. No more horcruxes, Tom. Just you and me. One of us is going to walk away today-"

"And you think it will be you?" the Dark Lord jeered. "You've made it this far by accident, because Albus Dumbledore was in control."

"Was it an accident when my mother died to save me? When I fought you in that graveyard? When I didn't fight back tonight and still returned to stop you?"

The Dark Lord shrieked, "Accidents!" He seemed to be coming undone. "You've hidden behind better men and women than yourself up until today!"

"No one else dies tonight. Haven't you noticed Tom? I've done the same thing my mother did for me, but for everyone here- I died for them-"

"But you did not!"

"I meant to. Now you can't bind them with your spells. You can't torture them. You can't touch them. You don't learn from your mistakes, do you Riddle? I know things you'll never understand and Rowan was right; that will be your undoing."

"What is it? Love?" he sneered. "Dumbledore's cure all, solution to everything?"

"Just try for some remorse Tom; it's the only thing that can save you now."

The sun peeked through the gaping hole in the front of the castle and the sunlight seemed to ignite the air between them.

"Avada Kevadra!"

"Expelliarmus!"

The two light jets met in between the two men and the Dark Lord's wand flew high in the air, as if returning home, to Harry's hand. The Dark Lord hit the floor and a cheer rose through the hall. It seemed to go on forever; cheers and screams of joy, laughter and tears. She was tackled to the ground and George kissed her hungrily, "That was bloody amazing!"

"It's really over," she said numbly. George grinned at her.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

People filed into the Great Hall, sitting at the returned tables and reveling. She half wondered where the bodies had been moved to, but she didn't have the mental capacity to think about that right now. She and George passed Ginny, who was sitting with her head on her mother's shoulder. She smiled grimly at them as they passed. Neville was seated with the Sword of Gryffindor gleaming next to him on the table, surrounded by admirers.

She leaned in, "Thanks for saving me."

He grinned, "Are you in love with me yet?" She chuckled and ruffled his hair and they continued on.

"Rowan," a voice reached out to her timidly. Narcissa, Lucius, and Draco were huddled together. "I just want you to know that I'm proud of you. Your dad would be too." She gave a curt nod and she and George continued down the hall. She paused at the staff table in front of not the headmaster's seat, but the seat where her father had sat for years and years. Where she had sat next to him. She sniffled a little, despite herself and sank to the floor. George sat next to her and cradled her in his lap.

"It's going to be okay." She knew George was right, but it wasn't okay right now. The Dark Lord was gone. But he had killed her father today. She had killed today.

"Rowan," Harry stood over them. "I've got something to show you." She reluctantly parted from George and followed Harry all the way up to the Headmaster's office. A portrait of her father hung snoozing next to Professor Dumbledore's.

She made to go to it, but Harry held her back, "Not yet." He led her over to the birdbath-looking thing. Inside it swirled a scene. She peered down at it but Harry pulled her in instead.

She watched a young version of her mother and father meet for the first time. She saw Harry's Aunt Petunia; her Aunt Petunia. He introduced her mother to the world of magic and told her all about Hogwarts. She watched his heart sink as Lily was sorted into Gryffindor and himself into Slytherin. They argued as teenagers about her father's friends and then later again; he'd called her a Mudblood. It seemed like that was where their friendship would end, until she and James split. He consoled her and for a moment it was like they'd never stopped being friends.

Then her father was grown, begging Dumbledore for help after he'd made the mistake of telling the Dark Lord about the prophecy; he would do anything to protect her. Then they were in Dumbledore's office and her father sounded mortally wounded. This must be after her mother's death. Dumbledore directed her father's attention to the basin.

The figure of Professor Trelawney rose out of it and rotated, "The Dark Lord and the Chosen One will become equals, but there is one who will tip the scales between good and evil. She holds great power inside and she may use it to destroy everything or to protect the innocent. The daughter of the Half-Blood Prince holds the fate of the world in her hands."

There had been another prophecy. Part of her wanted to be furious that it had been kept from her, but the more rational part understood why it had been. That was her. The idea that she could have destroyed the entire world was enough to make her head spin, even after the fact.

"Lily knew?" her father asked numbly.

"I had to tell her. As soon as the Dark Lord focused on the Potters, Rowan was in danger. Lily placed the barrier in Rowan's mind to keep her potential safe from prying eyes. But it won't hold forever." Her father let out another cry of anguish.

"Severus, pull yourself together. You have someone to take care of now," Dumbledore's voice was cool and a little harsh; it surprised her.

On the magnificent office rug where he had crumpled to his knees; he rose, "Rowan is everything I have to live for now. I will keep her safe." The determination in his voice made her heart ache.

"Her son lives too." Her father made a noise. "He has exactly her eyes; you remember, I assume?"

"Don't!" her father yelled. "I wish I were dead."

"If you loved her, your path is clear."

"Very well. But this stays between us. No one can ever know."

Next was her father complaining about Harry in Dumbledore's office and then the two of them outside the Yule Ball, discussing the Dark Mark darkening. Then they were back in Dumbledore's office; Dumbledore brandishing his shriveled hand and thanking her father for his quick work. They discussed Draco; Dumbledore had indeed thought Draco could be saved. And his request for her father to kill him; she had known already and it was still hard to watch. Her father was so reluctant, so pained, but he agreed.

Now the pair strolled through the grounds; her father asking what Dumbledore was confiding in Harry that he did not confide in him. They returned to the office once again and Dumbledore outlined his plans for Harry. Harry had to die at the hands of the Dark Lord; which she supposed he probably had. But her father did not know that Harry would not die for good and he was furious. He had done all of this for Lily, for her mother, and he felt that it would all be for nothing. He cast his patronus; a silvery doe. Just like the charm he'd bought for her bracelet. Her mother.

"After all this time?"

"Always."

Now her father was talking to Dumbledore's painting; Dumbledore was guiding him on how to remain in the Dark Lord's good graces so he could protect Hogwarts for as long as he could. He had Confunded Mundungous Fletcher to give the Order the idea to keep Harry safe when he left his aunt and uncle's home. She watched in horror as the scene changed again and she watched her father shoot a blast at the Death Eater's wand that aimed at Remus only to miss and hit George's ear. No one had told her it was her father who'd done it.

Her father read an old letter from Lily and cried, tearing her photo away from James and Harry's. He spoke to Phineas Nigellus about Harry and Hermione in the woods and removed the sword of Gryffindor from the secret panel behind Dumbledore's painting, speaking to Dumbledore about giving it to Harry.

The scene changed again and she couldn't believe there was more. These scenes were shorter and more rapid. It was all her; her arrival at his house, cold and dirty and afraid, her first Christmas with him, teaching her to brew her first potion, the first time she'd ever kissed his cheek, taking her for school supplies for the first time, he remembered all of it. She remembered a lot of these scenes, but she hadn't noticed the first time around how happy he looked. "Rowan is everything I have left to live for now," echoed in her mind.

Then they were back in the office. She couldn't quite process everything she had seen. Her mum and dad, the second prophecy, all of it. She and Harry had been played like chess pieces their whole lives, but she couldn't muster the indignation to be angry about it. They had won.

"He was brave," Harry said simply. She nodded. "You knew him better than anyone."

"I miss him. Both of them," she pulled Harry into a hug. "But we did it." He grinned. "Now for the love of Merlin, please go get Ginny." Harry chuckled and descended, but he likely knew what she really wanted.

She lingered and walked up to her father's portrait, "He's gone now, you don't have to pretend to be asleep."

Her father opened his eyes and gazed at her solemnly, "I'm sorry."

"You knew it would end this way, didn't you?"

"This was the best outcome I could have asked for." Her eyes welled up; she knew it was true, but it didn't feel like the best outcome. "Don't cry, please. You saw the memories; I loved your mother. And I loved you more than anything. You were the best thing I've ever had; those memories were my treasures. But like you said; I made mistakes. I had to fix them.

She nodded tearfully, "You did. She would be proud of you. I am."

"And I'm proud of you. You saved so many people today. You should go be with them. Celebrate. You've earned it."

She couldn't help but grin, "And you've earned some rest Daddy."

The celebrations started that night, but they weren't ready to join them just yet. They returned to the Burrow that night as the school was nearly destroyed; it would take time to complete the repairs. Accommodations for the rest of the school year would be made once things calmed down.

She lounged on the sofa with Fred and George; nestled under George's arm as close as she could get. She wasn't sure she would ever leave.

"So, I suppose you lot can go back to the shop now?"

George began, "Yeah, we-"

"How'd you know we haven't been at the shop?" Fred raised an eyebrow.

"Er-"

"That was you!" George exclaimed. "When you lot," he gestured to Fred, "invited Melanie over to try and force me to 'move on!' I told you I heard her voice!"

"You were spying on us?" Fred mock accused.

"I only wanted to see George," she admitted sheepishly. "I didn't care about seeing your ugly mug, Fred," she teased. "Besides, you were the one trying to set my Georgie up with that crazy hag!"

"He's my brother! He was all mopey and miserable, what was I supposed to do? You're the one who didn't write!"

"I did write; my dad was stopping my letters," she felt a pang of hurt. "I wrote you so many. But he was right; they would have put you in danger."

"I got the one that mattered," George reached into his pocket and pulled out the final letter; the seal was broken. She went pink. "C'mon, let's go outside." George took her by the hand and led her outside. There were fireworks blasting off all over the countryside; likely all over the country. They laid back on a small hill and George kept her hand in his. "I will admit, I was hurt when you didn't write about my ear."

"My father had to hold me back; I nearly showed up here when I heard." She grinned, "Speaking of which; did I miss your canonization?"

"My what?"

"The ceremony where you become a saint. You're holey Georgie." George's face was blank for a moment.

"Bloody hell, I love you so much," he laughed wildly and kissed her and a firework burst overhead. Suddenly there was a barrage of them, but these were clearly Weasley fireworks. There were pink and orange sparks and a chain of explosions surrounding them. Their faces lit up and she laughed; it was magical. A purple sparkler darted out in front of them and spelled out, "Marry me?" Her jaw dropped mid-laugh and she turned to George, who was smirking and holding a little box. She felt her heart in her throat.

"I didn't get to dance with you at Bill's wedding, so I think we should have our own." She stared at him numbly. "I think I've finally done it; you're speechless Snape."

She grinned, "Not for long."


	17. Epilogue

Epilogue

"Are you nervous?" Ginny asked eagerly.

Rowan laughed, "A little, but more that I'll fall on my arse in these shoes than to get married."

"You look lovely Rowan," Mrs. Weasley fawned.

She gazed into the floor length mirror in her tent; she did look lovely. Her dark hair curled around her face and fell in waves down to her waist. She had done her makeup for the first time since her last date with George; full, dark lashes framed her bright green eyes and her lips were stained in a dark red. Her dress had a simple lace pattern over the bodice and flared at the hips. Narcissa's tiara glittered from its place nestled in her hair. She felt like a princess; though she would deny it vehemently if either of the twins ever called her on it.

"Rowan," someone called from the edge of tent. She whirled around; Narcissa was wringing her hands anxiously.

"Could you guys give us a minute?" Rowan asked quietly. Mrs. Weasley looked hesitant, but the three trooped out.

Narcissa opened her mouth to speak and teared up, "You look beautiful."

Rowan strode over and pulled her into a hug, "Thanks Nissa." She paused, "How are you here? I assumed-"

"You and Harry- your testimony kept us all out of Azkaban," she answered quietly. "You let us start over. I can never properly thank you; either of you."

"You all wanted out. You made mistakes, but if my dad taught me anything; no one should have to suffer for them forever. I-" her breath caught, "I'm sorry about Bellatrix." She was sorry Narcissa lost her sister, even sorry that she was the one to do it, but she wasn't sorry that Bellatrix was gone.

"Don't be," Narcissa didn't meet her eyes for a moment. "I'm just glad you're okay. She sniffled and straightened the tiara on Rowan's head, "It looks stunning on you."

"Thanks," she grinned, "It was a lovely gift from one of my mums."

Narcissa beamed and for a moment looked like her old self, but she sobered quickly, "I should go. They're waiting for you out there."

She chuckled, "What are they gonna do, start without me?" She grabbed Narcissa's hand, "There's a seat out there for you."

"It's your day. My presence would only cast a shadow over it. Just know that I'm happy for you." With that, she was gone.

She took a moment to compose herself and Ginny crept back in, "Is it time?" Rowan nodded. "Guess I'm up then," Ginny grinned at her, "Good luck sis."

Rowan stepped up to the edge of the tent, "Ready?"

Harry stepped from the wings and held out his elbow, "Ready."

Everyone stood as they marched out. Mr. Weasley stood at the head of the aisle and George was waiting for her; grinning like a fool. She kept her eyes on him the whole way down. At the end, Harry gave her a hug and took his seat.

She stood across from the ginger dork standing in front of her and laughed, "I'm not marrying you. Get the hell out of here." She heard a gasp from the crowd. She rolled her eyes, "Fred, get in your bloody spot." She reached for George, who was standing in the groomsman's place, grinning widely, and pulled him up. "You're not getting out of this so easily Georgie."

"Can't blame a guy for trying," he joked. She flicked the extendable ear off his head and took his hand. She had requested a more muggle-based ceremony, partly to honor her mother and party so she could write her own vows. Mr. Weasley had been so eager for the opportunity to be the minister, researching and studying muggle weddings for the role.

George gazed at her, "I can't believe how lucky I am to be standing here with a beautiful, talented, and stubborn witch. But more importantly, I'm lucky to be standing here with you. My best friend, my partner in crime; no offense Fred."

"Some taken," he replied, although he bowed his head graciously, grinning.

"The love of my life," George continued. "It feels like we've conquered everything life could throw our way, but there will be more adventure and I can't wait to face it with you. You give me so much, something to be brave for; a reason to keep fighting. You've made sacrifices for me, for everyone, that I can never repay you for. But I get to spend the rest of my life trying."

"George I-" her breath caught, "I grew up thinking that I would end up bitter and alone. I was terrified until the day I met you. You were funny and smart and handsome and most importantly, you understood me in a way that I thought no one could. You were my friend and I didn't have to be afraid anymore.

Back then, I loved you and even if you never loved me back, it didn't matter because you were my friend. Last year, when we couldn't be together, I told myself that it would be okay because even if I couldn't be with you, you were safe. I've always told myself that even if I can't be happy, it'll be okay for some reason or another. I compromise because deep down, I've still always worried that I don't deserve to be happy.

But after everything, I somehow still have you. I think that's because not only do we love each other, but because I love who I am when I'm with you. You make me a better person; the person I always wanted to be. So thank you Georgie, for sticking by my side and showing me what's important in life. I'm grateful that I get to spend the rest of my life paying you back for that. So, believe me when I say, that this will be the holeyest wedding there's ever been," she lost it then. Tears overflowed and she burst out laughing, clutching George's shoulder for support.

"George Weasley, do you take Rowan Snape to be your wife?"

"I do."

"Rowan Snape, do you take George Weasley-"

"I do." A bit of laughter rose from the crowd.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss-"

She didn't hear anymore over the cheering. George pulled her close and kissed her in a way that almost made her relieved that her father wasn't here to see it. Almost. There were wolf-whistles and catcalls and they both broke apart, grinning. Fred and Ginny beamed at them from the wings. The chairs were whisked to the round tables circling the edges of the tent, taking their inhabitants with them if they were still seated. The band began to play and she wrapped her arms around George's neck. He placed his hands on her hips, just a touch lower than they should've been. She raised an eyebrow.

"Hey, you're my wife now! If I can't feel you up in public, what was the point?"

She couldn't help but laugh, "That's strange to hear. I'm your wife now. How does it feel to be Mr. George Snape?"

"No way in hell that's happening," he laughed.

"It's too late, you've already signed the papers Georgie. You really should read those before you sign them, you know," she smirked.

"Wait, it's not really though, right?"

"You really didn't read them?" she asked incredulously. "You're lucky I like being a Weasley," she grinned.

"I'm lucky for a lot of things," he smiled.


End file.
